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Fac-simile of a Two Dollar Bill — Revolutionary Currency 
Frb. 17, 1776. 



GRACE BARCLAY'S DIARY 



PERSON JL RECOLLECTIONS 



American Revolution, 



EDITED BY 

SIDNEY BARCLAY 



SECOND EDITION. 



New-York : 

ANSON D. F. RANDOLPH, 
770 Broadway, cor. Ninth St. 

1S66. 



T. 5 



Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1S59, by 

SIDNEY BAECLAY, 

In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the United States for the Southem 

District of New York. 



iZ/^'Ol^ 



1 



To 
WASHINGTON IRVING, ESQ. 

THIS VOLUME 

Is with permission inscribed, as a slight 

S^tslimomal of ll^spctt 

S. B. 



Preface 



'TpHE following Papers are taken from private records of the 
Revolution, written by a mover among, and an eye-witness 
of, the scenes therein described ; commencing with the occupa- 
tion of Long Island by the British. 

The actors therein served, not in tented fields, or cabinet 
councils; their names are not enrolled on the page of history; 
their deeds are unsung; or unremembered ; their sufferings, 
losses, and privations are unrecorded. Yet, in their patient 
endurance they served their country no less than if their blood 
had been spilled upon her fields of battle, or their treasure given 
to acquire her freedom. 

Placed in a region of country which was taken early, and held 

by the enemy during the war, they were subject to the depreda- 

11 



Preface. 

tions, insults, and levies of the British, and to robbery, incen- 
diarism, and brutal assaults from a class of outlaws, between the 
armies; the refuse of both parties, called Runners, Rangers, 
Cow-boys, etc. 

Those of the noble true-hearted countrymen of Long Island, 
who were at all active in behalf of freedom and their country, 
were exiled from their homes and obliged to fly ; if taken, they 
were imprisoned, their families were scattered, and their dwell- 
ings indiscriminately plundered ; while, by wearing a bit of red 
ribbon in their hats, as royalists, they might have been undis- 
turbed and protected. 

On the morning of the 30th of August, 1776, under cover of 
a heavy fog, while the enemy were so near that the sound of their 
pickaxes and shovels, as they dug the trenches, was distinctly 
audible to the Americans, General Washington, with unrivalled 
skill and judgment, effected the silent retreat and memorable 
passage of the East River. 

"After this," says a recent writer, " the British and their allies, 
the Tories and Refugees, had possession of the island, and many 
distressing scenes occurred, which were never made public, and 
can therefore never be known." 

Of this history, the following pages, from unpublished records, 
long kept, and often curiously though cursorily peeped into, afford 
a dark, though true picture. It is the history of the trials and 



Preface, 

sufferings, hopes, fears, privations, and grievances of a neighbor- 
hood in the heart of the island. To dwell for a season with 
fervent gratitude and affectionate pride on the self-denying spirit, 
indomitable heroism, and inexhaustible patience, which animated 
our Fathers and Mothers in the Revolutionary struggle, will 
serve to keep fresh in our remembrance the price paid for our 
Freedom ; will recall our minds from the all-engrossing Present, 
and rouse them from the benumbing influence of luxury and 
ease. 

The writer of these Letters, and this Diary, was the wife 
of an officer of the Revolution, and the daughter of a clergyman 
of the Church of England, who, though endeavoring to main- 
tain the neutral ground (as became one who owed allegiance to 
the Prince of Peace) in the contest which was then raging, divid- 
ing the hearts of households, whose peace and joy had never 
before known a cloud, was yet loyal at heart through all trial, 
temptation, and loss. His daughter's position, as the reader 
will perceive, was a pecuHar and painful one. 

The journal was written during a long period of separation 
from her husband. It presents a true picture of her life, and 
commences with an extract from one of his letters to her. It is 
full of minute details, which, from their beauty and simplicity, 
have been left untouched. The old manuscript has been faith- 
fully adhered to, the writer of this preface being confident that 



Preface, 

its authenticity will not be doubted by those who, taking truth 
and nature for their guide, can relish a plain tale plainly told. 

It is questionable whether there could be found in our whole 
country a spot where time has made so few changes, or custom 
so little inroad, as in the region which was the scene of these 
reminiscences. The habits and manners of its inhabitants are 
unaltered. The same houses, the same furniture, the same farms, 
the same trees, remain to this day. The spot where some 
cruelty or outrage was committed is still pointed out, and the 
very hearthstone is shown, under which lay hidden, until the 
danger passed by, the little relics of the broken househcld family 
plate, or perhaps all the money possessed by the needy owner. 



The Journal 



The Journal 



1776 



" V^TT'RITE from thy hearty Mary, from 
the inmost recesses of it, that I may 
look into it, as it laves^ hopes, thinks, fears, 
that, though absent, thou mayest le near, and 
that thy troubles, thy cares, may be shared., 
though not alleviated, by one whom thou lovest, 
and who laves thee" 

The request shall be granted; each 
day a page in the journal, or a letter to 
my husband. 

Still at the Parsonage with my three 
precious children; already heart-weary 



September. 



1776 American Revolution. 



at your absence, but striving to keep 
up courage. To-day received intelli- 
gence of the unfortunate affair of Brook- 
lyn. What a skilful movement was 
that of General Washington — a won- 
derful retreat I — the enemy so near that 
the sound of their pickaxes and shovels 
could be heard ! It is a new proof of 
his cool forethought and judgment. 
The heavy fog seemed to fall provi- 
dentially. May we not accept it as an 
omen that our leader is the favored of 
Heaven ? 

In this quiet nook where we had 
hoped to find peace and safety, we shall 
have disturbance, fear, and danger; since 
the enemy have possession of the island, 
there can be no doubt of it, but to some 
extent my father's neutral stand, and 
sacred profession, will protect us. 

As we have moved to this place, dear 



American Revoluti 



on. 



1776 



Edward, since you left us, I t±iink it 
will be agreeable to you to have some 
little description of it. It is a low- 
roofed, Dutch style of house, with its 
gable to the road; white-washed and 
covered with sweetbriar and creeping 
vines of many kinds; and my father has 
planted the ivy, which came from his 
dear Old England. It grows slowly, 
and the children love to pick its glossy 
leaves, and carry them to grandpa. At 
the sight of them, his heart of tender- 
ness reverts to early days ; he tells them 
of the old castles, and grey ruins it man- 
tles over the sea, and of the one which 
overgrew the cottage where he was born. 
The thoughts of my dear, honored 
parent remind me of a brave old tree 
torn up by its roots, and transplanted 
into a foreign soil ; it may not die, but 
it has a sickly appearance, and its leaves 



17/6 



American Revolution. 



have lost their living green, and are pale 
and yellow. 

The front door opens into a hall of 
moderate size. On the right is the par- 
lor; back of it my father's study, while 
on the other side is the dining-room 
and bed-room, and in the wing the 
kitchen. The rooms above are spa- 
cious and convenient, the windows at 
the end being large, admitting air and 
light. Across the front of the dwelling 
runs a piazza, or covered porch. Here 
we sit and sew, and talk, and read. 
My father tells me the news, which he 
gathers in his walks in the neighbor- 
hood; and I read to him portions of 
your letters, which indeed is but seldom, 
because they are so few. His breast is, 
I think, agitated by contending emo- 
tions. He is attached to the land of his 
adoption, and can sympathize in her dis- 



American Revolution. 



1776 



tress, but naturally his first, his dearest 
affections, were given to the land of 
his birth. Can we censure this? call 
it infatuation, blindness? Oh no I I 
honor my father for the sentiment. 
Do not condemn it, Edward. We love 
this, our native land, the native country 
of my mother, of both your parents. 
Her cause seems to us a righteous one. 
She is over-taxed, oppressed, insulted; 
my father feels this, he is indignant at 
it; yet, in his character of ambassador 
of Christ, follower of the Crucified, as 
well as by nature's instinct, he liates the 
sin, while he loves the sinner. They 
seem (the English) the foes of our own 
household to him; brother lifting up 
sword against brother, in unnatural war- 
fare, which he prays may speedily come 
to an end ! 



1776 



American Revolution. 



October 3^. 



"PJEAR, dear husband ! was there ever 
anything so sorrowful, so dreadful, 
as young Nathan Hale's fate "? Tears 
are running down while I write. 

Would that the enemy's designs could 
have been discovered without so costly 
a sacrifice ! Gen. Washington desired, 
for he knew it to be of vital importance 
to the Continental Forces, that some 
one should penetrate the British Camp, 
to discover their plans. 

In the performance of this duty, the 
flower of the army has fallen a victim 
to British wrath and brutality. 

Rhoda Pemberton wrote me that at 
the time when Colonel Knowlton first 
made known to the officers, the wish of 
the Commander-in-Chief, a dead silence 
prevailed ; and then Captain Hale 
looked up and said, " I will undertake 
it." It seemed, she said, against right 



American Revolution. 



1776 



and nature to all his friends, and even to 
strangers, that so young and gallant an 
officer should go out on such service. 
But young Hale said, " Every kind of 
service for his country became honor- 
able. It was desired by the Com- 
mander of her armies." 

Young Captain Hale left the camp at 
Harlem Heights under General Wash- 
ington's orders, late in last month, I 
believe. 

Before reaching the British lines he 
assumed the dress of a school master; 
he wore a suit of brown broad-cloth, and 
a round broad-brimmed hat. 

He took off his silver shoe buckles 
too. His college diploma was in his 
port-manteau, signed by the Reverend 
Doctor JSTapthali Daggett of Yale Uni- 
versity. 

He passed, so Rhoda tells me, safely 



1776 



American Revolution, 



through the British Hnes, every where, 
along the posts, and among the tents and 
barracks, to Huntingdon, about nine 
miles from this place. It was the place 
from which he started a short time 
before. A boat was to meet him, to 
sail over to Connecticut Main. 

The young man went down to the 
shore at day-break in perfect security; 
no doubt buoyed with joy at the success 
of his enterprise. 

He saw a boat moving shoreward. 
// was the enemy I He did retreat, but 
they cried out " Surrender, or Die." 

An armed vessel, the " Halifax," stood 
around the neck, out of sight. Thither 
the young man was taken, and put in 
irons. 

His papers, .written in some dead lan- 
guage (Latin, I believe), were under the 
soles of his pumps. They betrayed him. 



American Revolution. 



1776 



The next morning at daybreak, after 
he received sentence, he was executed. 

" I only regret," he said, just before 
he ascended to the gibbet, " that I 
have but one life to lose for my coun- 
try." 

Rhoda gave me this account. She 
says that Prevost Cunningham (the in- 
human wretch I) called out, " Swing the 
Rebel off I" 

I cannot write this without weeping. 
It was a noble testimony, but a bitter 
necessity. So likely, so young, so 
brave. 

It was on the 2 1st of September '76. 
They tore up the leLier he wrote to his 
family, saying, the rebels should never 
know they had a man in their army 
who could die with such firmness. 



25 



1776 



American Revolution. 



Tuesday. | ^T^HE Hessians have been ordered to 
cut down all the saplings they can 
find. They pile them along the road 
about twelve feet high, then by pressing 
teams and wagons, they cart it away to 
forts and barracks at a distance. 

It is a serious loss; in a few years 
our farms will be without wood for use. 
They (the Hessians) burn an immense 
quantity; — even the rail-fences, unless 
we take care to cut and cart wood for 
their constant use. Keeping the fire 
a-going all night, many a poor farmer 
rises in the morning to find his cattle 
strayed miles away, or his grain trampled 
down and ruined I 



Wednesday. A BOUT thirty miles to the eastward, 

a countryman was met on the 

road by a company of English soldier 

ruffians, when they began to curse and 



American Revolution. 



1776 



swear, and threaten to compel him to 
say, "God save the king," which he 
resolutely and unwisely refused to do; 
though doubtless not counting on their 
putting their threat into execution. 

One of the villains, more in liquor 
and more violent than the rest, stepped 
up to the American, with a drawn sword, 
which he kept flourishing over the poor 
creature's head, and shouted, " Say it, or 

ly you! re a dead man I " The villain 

paused an instant ; the dumb silence of 
the man continued, and the dreadful 
threat was put into execution ! 

I suppose there are many around us 
who would have done the same thing. 
Few, in this our day and generation, 
pray for their enemies, not even " Good 
King George!''^ 



1776 



American Revolution. 



Saturday. J^UTH FLOYD'S husband (you re- 
member Ruth, my old friend) has 
been murdered ! 

She married Nathaniel Woodhull. 
He was elected last year President of 
the Provincial Congress. There are no 
bounds to the indignation and horror. 
A pattern of Christian meekness must 
he or she be, to be able to forgive and 
pray for such enemies. But that God 
will turn their hearts I do most fervently 
implore. 

I jot down a few of the particulars, 
although it is a painful task. 

His duty was to drive the live stock 
from the shore to the interior of the 
island, out of the reach of the enemy. 

Being poorly off for men, he was 
forced to wait a reinforcement at 
Jamaica. He was Brigadier-General of 
Suffolk and Oueens. 



American Revolution. 



1776 



The General fell a victim to his high 
sense of honour. He refused to aban- 
don his perilous post, while any hope 
of reinforcement remained. 

My father thinks that he would have 
been justified in withdrawal. His force 
was reduced to less than 100 men, from 
'a desire to remove their families to 
places of safety. 

Those remaining, were worn down, 
and their horses over-driven, in repelling 
the ravaging parties of the enemy. The 
British (landing at Gravesend) were 
pouring over the Island in swarms, cut- 
ting off communications with the Ame- 
rican force at Brooklyn. 

A severe thunder-storm compelled 
him to take refuge in an inn near by. 
He was overtaken by the 17th regiment 
of British Dragoons. The General gave 
up his sword in token of surrender. A 



1776 American Revolution, 



ruffian ordered him to say, " God save 
the King." The General replied, " God 
save us all;" on which the cowardly 
assassin brutally assaulted the defenceless 
General with a broad-sword. 

He would have killed him, but his 
hand was arrested by an officer of more 
magnanimity and honour. 

One arm was horribly mangled, from 
shoulder to hand. In this situation he 
was dragged from place to place : at 
length he was released from a filthy 
little vessel used to transport live stock 
for the use of the British army by the 
enemy, and removed, mangled, bleeding, 
and parched with fever-heat, to an inn 
at Jamaica, Mrs. Hinchman's tavern. 

She gave up the best room and bed 
for the poor wounded General's use. 
He begged her not to leave him alone 
in the hands of the enemy. The 



American Revolution. 



1776 



humane woman answered, " Don't be 
uneasy, General; I don't expect to go 
to bed to-night." 

The next day he v/as taken westward 
again. Mrs. Hinchman had dressed the 
wounds, bandaged his head, which was 
terribly cut, and the shattered arm. 

At a half-way house, while the escort 
regaled themselves within, the wounded 
General was left with a guard, under the 
horse-shed ! Here again woman acted 
the part of the good Samaritan. Mrs. 
Howard, the landlady, went out to 
minister to the weak and fainting patriot. 

She brought bread, and wine-sangaree, 
and invited him with tender pity and soli- 
citude, to partake of some refreshment. 

The guard impudently asked, " If she 
had nothing for them ?" 

"I give to prisoners, you can luy^^ the 
kind woman replied. 



17/6 



American Rd'oh/tion. 



The fainting General was conveyed 
to New Utrecht. He felt himself ra- 
pidly growing worse ; his little remain- 
ing strength was fast ebbing. He 
urgently requested that his wife might 
be sent for. Strange to say, the request 
was granted. The arm was cut off by 
the surgeon, but mortification took 
place, and the brave man breathed his 
last, his wife, Ruth Floyd, having arrived 
only in time to receive his dying 
sigh. 

Poor Ruth ! What must have been 
her feelings when the news of her hus- 
band's state reached Mastick I 

Rhoda writes that she was wonder- 
fully sustained, and showed great pre- 
sence of mind. She (Ruth Woodhull) 
caused a wagon-load of provisions to 
be put up ; but little could her poor 
husband partake of 



American Revolution, 



1776 



General Woodhull lived Ibut a few 
hours after she reached New Utrecht. 
He was in the enemy's hospital, in a 
comfortless, wretched condition. It was 
his request, that Ruth should distribute 
the provisions among the poor starved 
American prisoners there, which she did, 
and then placed her dear, lost husband's 
body in the wagon, and went on her 
lonely way home. 

Poor woman I 

Yet, as she slowly travelled that dreary 
journey of 70 miles, in tears, there must 
have been some comfort in the thought 
that the precious remains of her gallant 
husband were not left with the enemy, 
to be denied the rites of sepulture ; but 
that she could lay him by the side of his 
forefathers, in the family burial-place; 
in hope, and honourable pride, that for 
his country he had laid down his life. 



1776 



American Resolution. 



Thursday. /^NCE a month the Hessians go 
to head-quarters for their rations, 
including spirits, and then for three days 
they are for the most part given up to 
intoxication, and we have trying and 
grievous scenes to go through ; fighting, 
brawls, drumming and fifing, and danc- 
ing the night long ; card and dice play- 
nig, and every abomination going on 
under our very roofs ! The noise from 
the kitchen, which they always occupy, 
is terrifying. The door opening into 
the rest of the house is nailed fast, but 
the inmates are continually in dread of 
having their dwelUngs burnt over their 
heads. 



Friday 'T^HE Pattisons had a fine young 
Morning. heifer killed during the night. 

Some of the family heard the noise, but 
thought it most prudent not to make 



Amencan Revolution, 



1776 



any resistance. The creature was drawn 
and quartered in the barn. What bold- 
ness! 

Mrs. Clement, the wife of James Cle- 
ment, was alone in the house with her 
children yesterday, about two miles 
hence, when an officer rode up, dis- 
mounted, and entered. He told her 
very civilly that he wanted supper for 
his company (about sixty men). She 
politely declined. He then began to 
insist, and at length said they slioulcl 
come. Mrs. Clement repHed that it 
was out of the question. She had no- 
thing prepared ; no person to assist her, 
and four little children to take care of 
Still he rode off, saying they would be 
back in an hour for supper, and if she 
did not get it ready, she must take the 
consequences. 

She sat in fear and trembling through 
2 35 



1776 



American Rcrcolution. 



the hour, and her helplessness overcame 
her so, that she could not resist tears 
most of the time, though she tried to 
put her trust in the Lord, that He would 
deliver from her distress. 

She thought it would be well if she 
could take her children and leave the 
house, but the nearest neighbor was a 
mile by the road, though only half that 
distance through the woods. But the 
wood was often infested with robbers, 
and the very thought of going that way 
made her shudder. In her state of 
weakness and fear she was quite unable 
to carry her baby, and the three Httle 
ones were unable to walk the distance 
of a mile. So she determined to wait 
the event, and when the British came 
to tell them the truth. 

Whether they found a better prospect 
elsewhere, or what the seeming cause 



American Revolution. 



1776 



was, I cannot say; but they did not 
return, and I cannot help believing 
that they were providentially deterred 
from so doing. 



T HAVE to-day to record deeds of 
horror, and of heroism, seldom 
equalled. 

The house of' Mr. Wilmot Oakley, 
near Cold Spring, was attacked last 
night. He had long expected, and was 
prepared to meet, the attack, being pro- 
verbially brave and powerful. 

The robbers forced open the front 
door, and entered the sitting-room, ad- 
joining Mr. and Mrs. Oakley's bed- 
room. Two loaded guns stood in the 
corner of the room. The robbers were 
armed with pistols and swords. On 
opening the door, Mr. Oakley saw three 
men, one of whom called out, " Surren- 



Saturday. 



1776 Americari Revolution, 

der, and give up your money I" Not: 
he. They had this time met their equal 
in daring — the man to fight it out, and 
the woman too ! 

Mr. Oakley fired his gun, and one of 
the intruders his pistol, which triflingly 
grazed the ear of Mr. Oakley. He 
handed his wife the gun, and took from 
her the loaded one ; fired it off, and his 
man fell. While she reloaded, he warded 
the other two of the rascals off with the 
gun in his hand. He then took the gun 
again loaded by Mrs. Oakley, fired, and 
the second man reeled and fell. The 
other man, seeing one of his comrades 
dead and the other fallen, ran out of 
the house, Mr. Oakley (with his gun 
reloaded) after him, fired at him as he 
was running on the road. The next 
morning traces of blood were seen in 
the road and on the fence, so that there 



American Revolution. 




is little doubt that he was wounded, 
though he escaped* 

I am glad to say every effort was 
made to save the life of the robber, who 
lay in a dreadful condition on the floor 
of the parlor, but it proved unavailing. 
He followed his companion in wicked- 
ness before the light of day. 



J^ATION-DAY. The Hessians bor- 
rowed a young horse of Mr. Pat- 
tison, to fetch home their rations, taking 
a pail for the liquor. After two hours' 
absence they drove up, cursing with 
rage at the horse, and whipping the 
poor creature most unmercifully. The 
reason was soon manifest. It seems, 
just as one of them had set the pail of 
spirits in the wagon, the young horse 
reared on his hind legs, and upset the 
whole ! 



Tuesday, 
\6th Oct, 



//' 



Am 



encan 



Revolution. 



We could scarcely conceal our plea- 
sure on hearing this, well knowing we 
had escaped one horrible jollification at 
all events, thanks to the high-mettled 
animal. 



IFednesday. /^HARLES accompanied John Har- 
ris home from school, with my 
permission, last night. He returned this 
morning, with a story of the night, which 
he related to me in breathless excite- 
ment. 

A family living a mile from us were 
quietly sitting together in the evening, 
when a noise was heard at the door like 
that of a sharp instrument thrust into it. 
On opening the door, there stood a red- 
coat with his sabre in his hand, which 
he had stuck into the wood an inch or 
two. He was backed by a dozen men. 
They pushed their way in, and were 



American Revolution. 



1776 



very unruly, rummaging and ransacking 
every drawer and closet ; but the family 
had long before taken the precaution to 
place all their valuables and money in a 
small room, which opened out of the 
common sitting-room, putting a large 
cupboard before the door, which covered 
it entirely; so that the Hessians quar- 
tered there last winter never discovered 
the existence of the room. A cunning 
device. 

The red-coats, highly enraged at find- 
ing nothing, began to threaten terrible 
things if they did not divulge the hiding 
place. Mr. W. told them, that if they 
dared do any violence he would report 
them to the commanding officer ; where- 
upon they actually went into the kitchen, 
kindled some hght wood, came out, and 
set a burning brand at each corner of 
the house.. The family were exceed- 



1776 



American Revolution. 



Ingly alarmed. In great terror, Sarah, 
the youngest daughter, rushed out. She 
is famed through all the north side for 
her comeliness. I can well imagine that 
she must have appeared to them like a 
lovely apparition, with her flashing eye 
and glowing cheek. The ringleader, 
astonished, stood with a torch in his 
hand, gazing at her. 

At length he said, " Angel I " 

" Stop, I entreat you," said Sarah. 
His looks were riveted upon her in 
ardent admiration, which embarrassed 
her. 

"I will, on one condition," said .he. 

"What is it?" said she. 

"Will you grant it?" 

" If I can," replied Sarah. 

" It is, that you will allow me to kiss 
you." 

" Oh, if that is all," said her father, 



American Revolution. 



1776 



"comply, my daughter." So, as she 
made no resistance, the rough soldier 
planted a fervent kiss on her lips, ex- 
pressed himself satisfied, and departed. 

They found before her baby-house 
that the soldiers had stuck the dolls on 
their bayonets, and railed among them- 
selves and laughed. 

It is seldom that a man's house is 
attacked more than once. Mr. Harris 
had his turn some time ago ; therefore, 
although he saw some suspicious-looking 
persons lurking about, he feared nothing, 
and rose before daylight, with the inten- 
tion of going to the south of the island 
for salt hay. 

Mrs. Harris, however, began to feel 
uneasy and timid, from the reports she 
heard during the day, and the recollec- 
tion of her never-to-be-forgotten injuries, 
and persuaded her husband to remain at 



1776 



American Revolution. 



home. That night passed without dis- 
turbance. 

About nine o'clock the next evening, 
a neighbor stopped at the gate in his 
wagon, and he and Mr. Harris were 
running over the exciting times and 
scenes enacting round the country, when 
they saw a man moving about the fields, 
and peering out of the edge of the 
woods now and then. One of the iserv- 
ing women, too, had seen some one 
about dusk standing close by the wood- 
pile, who vanished on her appearance at 
the door of the kitchen. In consequence 
of these signs, Mr. Harris concluded not 
to retire, but to sit up and keep lights 
and fires burning about the house. 

Charles and the other children were 
sent to bed, but not to sleep ; that was 
impossible, with their perturbed and 

excited imaginations. 

44 



American Revolution. 



1776 



About twelve o'clock, Mr. Harris 
being on the look out, saw a man at a 
short distance from the house, appa- 
rently reconnoitring; he now held a 
council with his wife and the two hired 
men. 

They came to the conclusion that an 
attack was intended, and that it was 
time to act; and they determined to 
leave the house in a body, taking the 
two guns, loaded, the money, silver, and 
small valuables. 

Though the next house was full a 

half mile off, there seemed no other 

alternative. The poor little frightened 

children were hurried up and dressed; 

their fears and cries were hushed, and 

they were carried down stairs. As 

quietly as possible all left the house by 

the back door. 

It was a moment of intense anxiety ; 

45 



1 77^ American Revolution. 



their hearts beat with dread and terror. 
With trembling Hmbs, that almost re- 
fused to bear them, they slowly and 
painfully moved on. "Faint, though 
pursuing," they endeavored to stay their 
minds above. 

At length arrived at Mr. S.'s, another 
difficulty presented itself The family 
would inevitably take them for robbers, 
and be liable to fire upon them. 

In this dilemma Mr. Harris thought 
it best to go close to the door, and call 
out his name, trusting that his voice 
would be recognised, which was the 
case. 

The poor wanderers were warmly re- 
ceived, and provided with comfortable 
beds, after they had talked over their 
fright. 

The house of Mr. S. has never been 
attacked, it is so well secured, the doors 

46 



American Revolution. 



1776 



and windows being lined and barred 
with iron, which is well known. 

A new source of trouble has appeared 
on the south side — kidnapping negroes. 

The ruffians come in sloops from the 
Delaware and Maryland country, and 
landing on the island in the night, they 
steal the poor creatures while asleep, 
after the labor of cutting the salt mea- 
dow grass for their masters. When they 
get them away, they sell them at the 
South. 

A week since, while the men were at 
work, four persons, in broad day, their 
faces blackened, and dressed like ne- 
groes, appeared suddenly, each armed 
with a gun, and before the others could 
come to the rescue, a man and a boy 
were forcibly taken, put in a boat, and 
rowed off to a cutter out at sea. On 
the deck the villains could be seen 



1776 



American Resolution. 



putting chains on the poor creatures. I 
tremble at the thought of the future ! 



Wednesday^ 

Nov. 2\th. 



YESTERDAY my indignation was 
aroused to a high degree. I was 
sitting in the end of the porch, my father 
at my side, and Httle Mary, with your 
letter in her hands, which she was 
pretending to read, when a loud cry 
startled us. It seemed to come from 
neighbor Pattison's, our nearest neigh- 
bor. Charles went over, returned, and 
gave us this account of the affair. It 
appears that Edmund Pattison was enjoy- 
ing his noon rest quietly in the barn (he 
is a noble-looking lad of eighteen, tall 
and athletic, and of a high spirit), when 
a light-horseman rode up to the door. 
" Youngster," said he, " make haste 
and bestir yourself Go and assist the 
driver of the two yoke of oxen there to 



Ajnerican Revolution. 



1776 



unload his cart of the timber into the 
road." 

Now Edmund had been hard at work 
with his own hired man, loading the 
wagon to take the timber to a farmer 
three miles off, to whom it was sold by 
his father; the waggon and teams both 
belonged to the Pattisons. 

" Hurry, sir," said the light-horseman. 

Edmund firmly replied, " I shall not 
do it." 

" What, sirrah ! we shall see who will 
do it ; " and drawing his sword, he held 
it over the head of Edmund, cursing 
and swearing, and threatening to cut 
him down, unless he instantly unloaded, 
and took his team, and helped to carry 
in it provisions for the army. 

With unblanched cheek Edmund Pat- 
tison reiterated his denial, and told him 
to do it himself 



1776 



Anierican Revolutk 



on. 



Incensed and enraged beyond mea- 
sure at such a contempt of orders, it 
seemed as though the man must strike 
and kill the stubborn boy, who, firm 
and undaunted, said not a word. 

At this time our Charles, who was on 
the spot, ran to the house and told Mrs. 
Pattison that " the Britisher was going to 
kill her Edmund." 

Her cry it was that we heard from the 
porch. She ran to the barn, and begged 
the soldier to desist. He was more 
furious than ever, supposing the fear of 
the mother would induce compliance ; 
she too expostulated with her son, im- 
ploring him to assist in unloading the 
wagon, and save himself from death. 

"No fear of death, mother; he dare 
not touch a hair of my head." The 
boy was more determined than before, 
and the soldier more enraged, flourish- 



American Revolution, 



1776 



ing his sabre, and swearing that he would 
be the death of him. 

" You dare not. I will report you to 
your master for this," said Edmund, very 
boldly. Upon this the light-horseman 
mounted his horse, and told the brave 
Edmund once more, that if he did not 
instantly comply with his request he 
would cut him into inch pieces ! 

Edmund coolly walked across the 
barn-floor, armed himself with a huge 
pitchfork, and took his station in the 
doorway. 

" You cowardly rascal," said he, " take 
one step towards this floor, and I stab 
you with my pitchfork ! " 

His mother could endure the scene 
no longer ; she ran to the house, where 
she met her husband, and sent him to 
rescue Edmund. Friend Pattison, a sen- 
sible, clear-headed man, rode up, and 



776 



American Revolution. 



Saturday, 

Nov. 27. 



seeing matters at this high pass on both 
sides, said to the Britisher, " You know 
your duty, and have no right to lay a 
finger on hi?n, a non-combatant on neu- 
tral ground." 

Seeing no signs of relenting, farmer 
Pattison turned his horse into the direc- 
tion of the road, and said he would soon 
see Colonel Wurms, and know wlio had 
the power to abuse and threaten the far- 
mers of the country in such a manner. 

The light-horseman was now alarmed, 
and thinking it best to get there first, 

put spurs into his horse, and rode off, 

uttering awful imprecations. 

Thus this time Edmund escaped, 

though I very much fear his defying, 

fearless spirit may yet cost him dear. 

"DECEIVED a few hasty lines from 
White Plains. They mention an 



American Revolution. 



1776 



engagement on the 28th October; "re- 
treated with loss." The aspect of affairs 
is gloomy indeed. I cannot but feel 
despondent. Where is it to end., and how ? 
The army is greatly reduced by killed, 
wounded, and taken, and those whose 
enlistments have expired daily leaving; 
the poor creatures remaining, many 
without shoes or comfortable clothing, 
are sadly disheartened. The enemy 
have possession of the city of New 
York, of Staten Island, and of Long 
Island. Who can look without trem- 
bling at the failure of this struggle to 
throw off our yoke ? The reins drawn 
tighter, more oppressed and . circum- 
scribed, and the examples made of 
rebels — it is fearful to think of 

It must have been an affecting sight 
to witness the enthusiasm of the poor, 
barefooted, ragged, hungry troops, toss- 



1776 



American Revolution. 



Ing up their crownless hats in the air, 
when, on his white charger, the general 
rode into camp ! 

I will confess a womanly admiration 
of a noble exterior. Washington's in- 
fluence and authority must be enhanced 
by his gallant bearing and commanding 
figure, as he sits his proud steed. 

You never look at the possibility of 
failure. It is the cause of liberty, the 
cause of humanity; yet your letter 
breathes discouragement. We are so 
far separated, there is so much uncer- 
tainty, and war is so sorrowful, that I 
sometimes feel a longing to fly with you 
to a place of peace and safety. 

Adieu! The little ones are well; 
they (blissful things!) know not the 
care and anxiety of 

Your fond and foreboding wife. 



54 



American Revolution. 



1776 



''pHE depredations, robberies, and not 
seldom murders, committed by the 
Cow-Boys and Runners, are alarming, 
and exasperating the people in the ex- 
treme. The farmers suffer dreadfully 
from the levying, taxing, and quartering 
upon them of the Hessians and British 
soldiers. They are very insolent, mak- 
ing most unreasonable demands, and the 
meek-spirited, unresisting Quakers are 
martyrs to their lawlessness and rapacity. 
There are two homesteads besides our 
own which border The Pond. It is a 
beautiful little sheet of water. My 
father often says it would, in the old 
countries, be called a lake, tarn, or some 
other pretty name. Well, it would not 
any more enliven our prospect as it spar- 
kles in the sun, and grows dark and 
shadowy in the twilight. Nor would 
Charley delight the more to sail his 



December. 



1776 



American Revolution. 



mimic ship, or paddle the canoe upon 
its bosom, than he does now the Kve- 
long day. There is a small island in 
the centre, which is called after the silly 
birds which dearly love to swim the 
water, land thereon, flap and dry their 
wings, and scream their pleasure — Goose 
Island. 



Monday. JJENRY PATTISON, the nearest 
neighbor, has eight sturdy sons, and 
one little timid daughter. He belongs to 
the Society of Friends, is a fine specimen 
of humanity, owns a valuable farm, yet 
has a pretty hard struggle to bring up 
his large family. He was beginning to 
prosper a little, when the war began; 
but he is a mild, patient, pious man, 
consulted in all troubles and difficulties 
the whole country round ; has prevented 
much going to law; visits the sick in 



American Revolution. 



1776 



soul and in body, and relieves them by 
his judicious advice, temporal and spi- 
ritual. He is called hereabouts The 
Peace-Maker. 

Friend Pattison appears to have nei- 
ther "part nor lot" in the struggle in 
which the country is engaged. How 
strange ! ^ole a man^ and remain neutral! 
His soul abhors War. This principle of 
their sect is enrooted in his breast. Yet 
he is a severe sufferer from it. Six Hes- 
sians are quartered upon him. They 
took possession of the kitchen; swung 
up their hammocks; cook his (the far- 
mer's) food, and hang about, smoking 
and drinking the live-long day. Dear, 
how annoying ! When shall we be rid 
of them *? 



QENERAL HOWE has issued a 

proclamation offering pardon to 

3^ 57 



Thursday. 



1776 



American Revolution. 



all who will submit to royal authority. 
Pardon ! for what ? A just indignation 
against rights trampled upon ! 

It is said that many wealthy and influ- 
ential persons have deserted the Ameri- 
can cause. It is indeed a gloomy hour ! 
But we must triumph. The descendants 
of those who sought here a peaceful 
asylum from oppression, — Huguenots, 
Puritans, Covenanters, — will not submit 
to oppression here. They will defend 
it with their lives. The ocean rolled 
between them and their tyrants, tlien^ 
as it will again. It is God's decree that 
this people shall be free. The broad 
lands of this new continent are destined 
to all time to be the asylum of the 
Persecuted, the Poor, the Suffering I 
Tyranny here shall never hold his bale- 
ful sway I 



American Revolution. 



1776 



T^HE impressments of men, horses, 
and wagons, to carry provender, 
hay, and soldiers, about the country, are 
unceasingly going on. When the dread- 
ful work begins, the light-horseman is 
seen flying like lightning from house to 
house; the men take the alarm, and 
make every effort to get out of the way, 
and to hide their horses and wagons. It 
is very difficult. Many a noble animal 
is ruined, worked to death. When the 
farmers are once caught, and receive 
orders, they dare not disobey, for perse- 
cution is sure to follow. They receive 
less injury by complying. 



Monday. 



JgDITH PATTISON came over to 
the Parsonage to-day for the first 
time. She is a sweet young Quakeress ; 
her pure, lovely, and attractive looks are 
indeed winning. She wore a silvery 



Tuesday, 



1776 



American Rcvoh^tion. 



drab poplin ; the sleeves came just above 
the elbow, a little white frill below ; her 
arms are round and white. She wears 
always a neat gauze cap ; it is thought 
unseemly in their Society that a young 
woman's head should be uncovered. 
She is very fair, though her hair and 
eyes are dark ; her aspect is mild, gentle, 
and pensive. I can describe to you the 
outline of Edith's features, but not the 
spiritual expression of her face. She is 
made a perfect lady of by her eight 
doting brothers. They will fetch, and 
carry, and run for their beautiful sister, 
as though she were a queen. And when 
you look at her, you do not think it 
strange, her air and mien are so serene, 
and dignity sits enthroned upon her 
brow. 

Doubtless when you read my Journal, 
penned for your eye, you will exclaim. 



American Revolution. 



1776 



" How could she calmly write these de- 
tails in stirring times like these ? " But 
remember, Edward, I must be occupied 
about something; it beguiles the atten- 
tion, and keeps off sad thoughts of 
you, which, when I give way to them, 
rend my heart. My precious father's 
peace is disturbed, and even the dear 
children appear to participate in the 
foreboding gloom. 



'T'O-DAY little Marcia found me weep- 
ing over your miniature. She took 
it out of my hand, and covering it with 
kisses, said, " Oh, that is my dear papa. 
He is a brave man, is he not, mamma ? 
and the best man too that ever lived. 
When will he come back ? " 

This prattle will be sweet to your 
ears, for it comes from the heart. 



Thursday 



1776 



American Revolution. 



Sunday. 'T^HE church was opened for divine 
service to-day. It was unusually 
solemn; many officers and soldiers 
attended ; they were serious and atten- 
tive. 

Our beautiful clover-field is trampled 
upon and ruined. My dear father was 
so fond of its luxuriance I When the 
dew was on it, the air came laden 
with delicious odor, regaling us when we 
sat in the porch. The children used to 
make posies and wreaths of the large red 
and white flowers, and often expatiated 
fondly and gratefully on the rich feast 
preparing for the horse and brindle cow, 
by Him who "giveth the early and the 
latter rain." The clover-seed came from 
England. While in church a company 
of fifty horsemen rode into the field, 
and quite cropped and destroyed it. I 
have persuaded my father to make 



American Revolution. 



1776 



complaint to Colonel Wurms ; but there 
is no redress. 



A PRESS for horses yesterday. I 
will relate how Charley saved our 
young horse. He and James Pattison 
were idly sitting on the fence, the other 
side of the pond, talking indignantly 
of the insults of the British, to whom 
the former shows no mercy, when they 
espied a light-horseman at the door of a 
farm-house. They knew the next place 
would be Isaac Willetts', which, though 
only across the pond, is completely hid 
from our view by a stately row of pop- 
lars, which forms a leafy screen; and 
they knew his errand too, that he would 
be here in an instant, for when "press- 
ing," they gallop from house to house 
with violent speed. 

" Fleetfoot shall not go," said Charles, 



Tuesday. 



1776 



American Revolution. 



"without an effort to save him;" and 
running with all his might to the barn, 
he jumped on his back, and made for 
the woods. 

On the instant he was seen by the 
red-coat, who put spurs to his horse, 
and came on a full run towards the 
woods, where Charles had disappeared. 
My heart beat quick when the red-coat 
too was lost to sight. My dear, brave 
child might fall from his horse and be 
dashed against the trees, in the hot pur- 
suit of the hght-horseman. 

My father and I sat gazing intently 
towards the woods, awaiting the result 
in breathless anxiety, astonished at the 
boy's daring, and ready to reprove his 
rash spirit in attempting to save the 
young horse at the risk of his own 
safety. 

In about an hour's time we saw the 



American Revolution, 



1776 



red-coat come out of the woods below; 
he stopped a man In the road, and made 
inquiries, but getting no satisfaction, 
rode off, muttering curses. 

At nightfall, peeping his way through 
the wood, Charles made his appearance, 
still mounted on his favorite Fleetfoot. 
By signs we made known to him that 
the danger had passed, and he rode up 
to the house. Overjoyed to see him, 
he told us his story, which Grace and 
Marcia drank in with greedy ears. In- 
deed the scene in the porch was worthy 
of Hogarth's pencil. On one side was 
his pale affrighted mother, and the little 
girls, with eyes open v/ide and full of 
wonder; near by, the venerable grand- 
father, with silver locks parted upon a 
peaceful brow, and Charley standing 
close to his. steed, as he recounted his 
wrongs and hairbreadth escape, leaning 



776 



American Revolution. 



his head occasionally against his proud 
neck, so that my son's curls of gold 
mingled with the ebon mane of Fleet- 
foot. 

He said that he struck deeper and 
deeper into the woods, going from one 
piece to another, until the forest became 
very dense and dark. He rode into a 
tangled, marshy place, where he stood 
five hours without moving I 

At one time he heard his pursuer 
close by ; heard his fearful oaths, heard 
him lashing the sides of his own jaded 
horse. Charley's heart beat violently. 
But the bog was wet and gloomy, and 
the soldier's ardor was dampened — he 
durst not venture. So Charles and 
Fleetfoot were left to themselves in 
the deep wood. A brave feat for a 
boy of fourteen ! 



American Revolution, 



AN officer of high rank is in winter 
quarters with us; resistance is out 
of the question; wounded and ill, we 
deeply sympathize with him. Foe or 
friend, he must be cared for compas- 
sionately. 

jyjAJOR MUSGRAVE has two ser- 
vants. They attend upon him 
assiduously, but we can minister to the 
mind of the poor gentleman, and by 
reading and conversing, can beguile him 
sometimes of the thought of his situa- 
tion. 

Oh, dear husband, war is a weari- 
ness ! Its effects sicken the soul. Every 
hour some fresh account of murder, 
robbery, wounding, destroying, depre- 
dating ! 

When will this unnatural warfare be 
at an end *? 



1776 



December. 



Tuesday 



1776 



A^ncrican Revolution. 



JVednesdax. 



jy[AJOR MUSGRAVE is very ill 
to-day, but yet considerate, and 
full of the thoughtful courtesy of the gen- 
tleman. What a blessed thing it is, that 
national animosity can be lost sight of, 
forgotten, in sorrow and compassion for 
a fellow-creature's distress I It leads me 
constantly to bring home to my own 
thoughts and feehngs the idea of a 
beloved husband, child, or brother, in 
such a situation, away from me and all 
that he loved ; amid those against whom 
his hand had been raised in warfare ; 
wounded, ill, in pain, and anguish of 
spirit. Should I not cherish, in the deep 
places of my heart, an everlasting grati- 
tude ? And should I not teach it reli- 
giously to my children, to those who had 
thus ministered unto mine own ? 



American Revolution. 



1776 



"^'O public news this many a day. 
My womanish fears, as you name 
them, get the better of me. The dis- 
parity between the contending parties Is 
so Immense. The mother country, the 
first maritime power on the globe; her 
great wealth, vast resources, well disci- 
plined armies, experienced military and 
naval commanders. What have the 
Colonies to oppose to such an array of 
means and power ? 

Inexperienced officers; raw, undisci- 
pHned troops; scant arms and muni- 
tions of war; small revenue ; few armed 
ships I 

Be still, my anxious heart I "All 
things are possible to them that believe." 
"By faith we can remove mountains." 
Mountains they appear when we look 
at human means, which seem utterly 
inadequate. But "the race is not to 



Friday. 



1776 



American Revolution. 



the swift, nor the battle to the strong." 
What is this struggle of the Colonies ? 
Is it a war of aggression, of cupidity, of 
conquest, of fierce passion, for tyranny 
and despotic sway? No — it is the 
noble endeavor, the strong purpose, 
founded in inalienable right, to throw 
off a galling yoke unjustly and perse- 
veringly imposed. It is the cry of 
humanity against oppression, usurped 
power, insolence, and rapacity. Will 
it prevail, or will it be smothered? 
Will those evils, from which our fathers 
fled to this new-found country, like 
hydra-headed monsters, raise here their 
heads, nor be smitten ? 



Monday. ^HE neighbors feel in Major Mus- 
grave an involuntary interest. Sym- 
pathy forms this .bond. They call often 
to see him, and inquire about him, and 



American Revolution. 



1776 



bring nice things to tempt the sick man's 
appetite. Such attentions touch him 
sensibly. The wound is very bad; it 
has induced a high fever. He is patient 
and uncomplaining, which is ten times 
more touching than if he were cross and 
irritable. 



T CANNOT but be powerfully moved 
by the wounded man who lies below. 
His heroic patience in such deep suffer- 
ing is to be greatly admired; also his 
consideration of others in the midst of 
it. He seems to forget himself, in 
the dread of giving trouble and incon- 
venience. My father says it is the gift 
of God — Grace^ which enables him to 
triumph over the pains of the body. I 
asked Major Musgrave if he had always 
endured suffering so patiently? He 
replied, " I have not borne mental trials 



Tuesday, 



//' 



American Revolution. 



with patience or meekness ; they are more 
difficult to endure than bodily pain." 
He has before made allusion to some 
great sorrow which he has experi- 
enced. 



D('c. 30///, 
1776. 



T^HE year has closed disastrous, 
gloomy; panic and despair reign 
in many a breast. All the future is un- 
certain; none can foretell what another 
year may bring forth. Our great com- 
mander is still hopeful; although he 
prays Congress for more effort and assist- 
ance, he never speaks a discouraging 
word as to the result of the struggle. 
If Congress would appropriate more 
money, and men could be enlisted on 
longer terms, say during the war, and 
properly equipped, greater things could 
be done. Now, no sooner are they 
organized, and become a little drilled, 



American Revolution. 



than the term of enlistment expires, and 
raw recruits take their place. 

J^EWS of the Battle of Princeton. 
My husband safe, thank Heaven I 
General Washington victorious ; Gene- 
ral Mercer mortally wounded I How the 
thoughts of his loved ones rush to my 
heart ! God have mercy upon them ! 
The Commander-in-Chief, by his judg- 
ment, skill, and cool intrepidity, has 
struck the enemy with surprise. They 
have looked with contempt on our raw 
men, many of whom never saw a battle. 
They expected to crush us; to quell 
with ease, by their giant power, the 
rebels, as the lord of the forest crushes 
the insects beneath his feet. With all 
Major Musgrave's politeness, this is dis- 
coverable. 

They forget the deep-rooted indigna- 

4 7;j 



777 



Jan. i^t/i. 



1/77 



Amcr'n \ in Revolution. 



tion which burns in our breasts ; the 
determination to be free, animating the 
whole colonies with one heart and pur- 
pose, to do and dare for liberty, or death I 

Thursday. 'T^HE Major is rather better; the 
w^ound appears to be healing, but 
he is miserably weak and ill. I went 
into his room to-day rather unexpect- 
edly; he appeared to have a miniature 
in his hand, and put it hastily aside. I 
asked no questions, of course. 



Friday, 



QENERAL WASHINGTON has 

completely dislodged the British 
along the Delaware river, and recovered 
almost the whole province of New Jer- 
sey. Does it not teach man to look' to 
Him, and remember who it is that 
blesses the means, when to mortal view 
they seem totally inadequate ? 



American Revolution, 



^111 



/^UR trials in this quarter, I have no 
doubt, appear to you trifling, and 
insignificant. In comparison with the 
great sacrifices and noble deeds now 
enacting on a broader field, they are so. 
Nevertheless they are irritating and ex- 
asperating in the extreme, and hard to 
be borne. Were I to undertake to 
relate the injuries, insults, horrors, and 
sufferings our poor farmers are subject 
to, I should never finish the story. They 
take the fence rails to burn, so that the 
fields are all left open, and the cattle 
stray away and are often lost ; burn fires 
all night on the ground, and to replenish 
them, go into the woods and cut down 
all the young saplings, thereby destroy- 
ing the growth of ages. But worse 
than all, robbers come over from the 
main shore in boats, and keep us in 
constant alarm! They belong to no 



Monday. 



1777 



Aincr 



'lean 



Revolution. 



party, and spare none; freebooters, 
cowardly midnight assassins, incendi- 
aries, indiscriminate, bold, and daring. 
" Their hand is against every man, and 
every man's hand is against them." 

We have been spared as yet on ac- 
count of the Hessians and officer, which 
are quartered here, whom they fear. 
Thus " some strange comfort every state 
attends." 



Wednesday. 



T^HE soldiers take so much notice of 
the children, that I fear lest they 
should contract evil, especially Charles. 
They have taught him to speak their 
language ; he understands nearly all 
their conversation. .They make pretty 
willow baskets for Marcia and Grace, 
and tell them of their own little ones at 
home, over the stormy ocean. The 
children are fond of them, and they feel 



American Revolution. 



1777 



no enmity towards them. What is 
more melancholy than the trade of a 
hired soldier? I deeply commiserate 
their wretched lot. Nothing to ennoble 
the contest; no homes and hearths to 
fight for; no country to save; no free- 
dom to bleed and die for. It may be 
" sweet and proper for our country to 
die," as saith the old Roman, but it is 
bitter servitude to risk life and limb for 
lucre ; and revolting, sickening, to serve 
in a cause by which we have nothing to 
gain in victory, or to lose in defeat I 



A MOST daring deed was perpe- 
trated last night about a quarter of 
a mile from us. Mr. Robert Lester is 
a Tory, and has been somewhat active. 
He was awakened at midnight by a 
loud crash ; it was occasioned by an im- 
mense stone thrown with violent force 



Tuesday. 



1777 



American Revolution. 



against the front door, which broke in. 
The robbers efttered the house. They 
ordered Mr. Lester to dress himself in- 
stantly; he dared not disobey, being 
completely in their power ; he was blind- 
folded, taken to the harbor, placed in 
the light craft which they call " whale- 
boats," and rowed over to the main shore, 
seven miles. The villains will sell him 
to the Whig Committee of Safety. 



Thursday. ^TPHE army in winter quarters at Mor- 
ristown. Depredation and destruc- 
tion going on about here. 

Major Musgrave sits up an hour or 
two every day; he powerfully awakens 
my sympathy. Do not be frightened, 
my husband. Pity, admiration of his 
patient endurance, no other sentiment 
can animate my breast. He is our coun- 
try's foe, but circumstances have made 



American Rrooliitlon. 



hiiii so; and he said to me this day, " It 
is a wicked war, and if it please God to 
raise me up, I shall never again engage 



m it.' 



1777 



gPRING is again opening, and the 
war seems just begun! 

A young French nobleman has ar- 
rived, having embraced voluntarily the 
American cause ; the love of freedom, 
and a desire to succor the oppressed, 
were his only incentives. The Marquis 
de la Fayette has been appointed a 
Major-General. He is not twenty years 
of age. A man of wealth, and used to 
the luxury of a court. 

Our cause assumes consequence in 
the eyes of foreign powers. Even poor 
Major Musgrave speaks with greater 
moderation of probable success in quell- 
ing "the revolt." 



March 6th, 



/// 



American Rrcolution. 



Mofida] 



TAMES PARKER, a farmer near by, 
was driving home late last evening, 
from the town; the night was uncom- 
monly dark; he passed a large tree; 
behind it stood a man with a loaded 
gun. A voice called out to the travel- 
ler to stop; it was unheeded. The 
robber fired and hit him ; he fell off his 
seat and expired ! 

The horses took fright, and running 
three miles, came to a noted tavern 
kept by Increase Carpenter, where they 
stopped under a shed, and stood still un- 
til morning, when they were discovered 
with their sad burthen, the dead man I 
The goods in the wagon were of course 
untouched, owing to the horses running 
away. The indignation of the people 
is without bounds, and very active mea- 
sures of defence are talked of 



American Revolution. 



^111 



T^O-DAY took Edith into Major Mus- 
grave's room, he having expressed 
a wish to see the kind lady who had sent 
him so many dehcacies made by her 
own hand. She has many admirers; 
soldiers and ploughmen, lettered and 
unlearned, the peaceful disciple of her 
own quiet sect, and the officer with 
epauletted shoulder and sword on side. 
She is lovely and captivating, but 

" Securely she smiles on the forward and bold. 
They feel what they owe her, and feel it untold." 

Yesterday I saw her pass the window 
with a gallant at her side. The contrast 
between them — she in her little close 
bonnet, grey dress, and sober mien, and 
the gay officer in scarlet regimentals — 
was very striking. Edith's eyes were 
cast down to the ground, while his were 
fixed upon her sweet face pleadingly. 

4* 81 



Thursday. 



1777 



American Revolution. 



I heard him say, in a low tone, " Oh, 
Edith, how shall I win your favor ? " 

I can tell him ; he will not win it 
unless he relinquish the warrior's craft. 
To Edith, all " the pomp and circum- 
stance of glorious war" is shrouded in 
gloom. "The shrill fife and spirit- 
stirring drum " drowneth not in her ear 
the groan of the wounded, the cry of 
the dying. • Amid the din of arms, she 
listeneth to the widow's wail ; and when 
the shout of victory rises, she sees the 
orphan's tears ! 

' Do you know, dear husband, that 
papa and I are much of her way of 
thinking of late? although it needed 
not Edith's eloquent defence of peace 
to convince us. I long for the hasten- 
ing of the day when " the nations shall 
not learn war any more, nor lift up 
sword against nation; but the sword 



American Revolution. 



^111 



shall be turned into the ploughshare, 
and the spear into the pruning hook." 

I suppose you will say, " So be it" — 
after our independence is secured ! 



/^UR vines are putting forth; the 
grass is springing; all nature has 
put on her lovely garb of green. The 
children are full of joy; it is difficult to 
keep them to their tasks ; but through 
the long winter they have been more 
industrious. Charles is quite a profi- 
cient in study, his grandpa thinks. I 
hope you may not have reason to be 
ashamed of him. This weary absence 
maketh sick the heart; but I will not 
dwell upon the sad subject; it pains 
you to hear me repine. I trust God in 
his providence will so order the course 
of events, that all will work together for 
good. I will try to bear without mur- 



Tuesday, 
May I St, 



1777 



American Revolutioji. 



muring whatever He in his wisdom 
may send. 

** They also serve who only stand and wait." 

Tliursday. |^AJOR MUSGRAVE'S wound is 
quite healed, but he is still low 
and feeble. Nature appears to have 
struggled hard with some deep inward 
grief, which is striving for the mastery; 
he has great fortitude, but may, notwith- 
standing, sink under it. I fear so. I 
would not for worlds intrude on his pri- 
vate sorrows ; but oh, that I could share 
and alleviate them I 



Friday. 'IPHE farmers have devised a scheme 
to make known through the neigh- 
borhood the presence of the "Runners." 
They are generally seen lurking about 
at twilight, spying the points most favor- 
able for attack ; if observed, they walk 



American Revolution. 



1777 



on in an unconcerned manner, whistling 
or singing. Sometimes they will stop, 
and inquire the way to some place ; 
suddenly disappearing, they are unex- 
pectedly seen again in the edge of the 
wood, or from behind a hay-stack in the 
field, peering about, terrifying every 
body, above all women and children. 
These signs are not to be mistaken. 
We are on our guard ; the " great gun " 
with which all are provided, is loaded 
and fired off. Pop I Pop I go the 
answering guns for five miles round; 
each house takes up the alarming tale, 
and thus it spreads, warning of impend- 
ing danger, and frightens away the 
enemy, for that time at any rate. 

"^EIGHBOR Pattison, of his peace- 
loving spirit, and horror of the 
" murderous weapon," hath made a large 

85 



Aug. i^th. 



1777 



American Revolution. 



conch-shell do the office of a gun; it 
makes a noble sound, and being close 
in our vicinity, is a well-known signal. 
Charles no sooner hears it, than he is on 
the alert ; out comes papa's rusty great 
gun, whose loud report is soon responded 
to by the whole neighborhood. 

Tuesday. r^ONGRESS has passed important 
resolutions, and increased General 
Washington's power, investing him with 
unlimited command. They are endea- 
voring to rouse the people by an impres- 
sive Address. Benjamin Franklin, Silas 
Deane, and Arthur Lee, are sent to so- 
licit aid of foreign powers. 



Wednesday. "jV/TAJOR MUSGRAVE seems very 

feeble; it is doubtful whether he 

survives the winter. 



It is affecting to 



see him, he is so weak and helpless, yet 



American Revolution, 



^111 



patient and uncomplaining. On going 
into his room to-day, he appeared to be 
reading old letters, and was evidently 
much moved. I assured him of my 
hearty sympathy ; he said with emotion, 
"Oh, dear madam, why do you pity 
me ? yoii^ who know nought of the past." 

" I do commiserate your present con- 
dition ; is it not enough to call it forth ? " 

" It may be," replied Major Mus- 
grave. "But there are sufferings so 
deep, that the lassitude and decay of 
the body, although wrought by them, 
are unheeded, swallowed up by their 
intensity; even the pang of death is 
subdued by the peace which it heralds." 

As the Major did not offer to unbur- 
den his mind to me, I took up Bishop 
Jeremy Taylor*s "Holy Living and 
Dying," which my father so delighteth 
in, and asked whether I should read to 



J 777 



American Revolution. 



him. He assented gratefully, and I read 
an appropriate comforting passage. 



September . 



ine. 



'^EWS of the battle of Brandywi 

The troops mostly fought bravely, 
but the day was against us. The young 
French marquis is wounded; my hus- 
band, I trust, is safe. Let me continue 
to put my trust in the Almighty arm. 
}ie only can deliver. 

My father frequently sits an hour or 
two with the Major, whose mind is 
enriched to a degree that makes him 
an instructive, as well as a delightful, 
companion. Even religious subjects my 
dear father does not avoid (he could 
not if he would) ; he tells me that he 
finds in the Major an understanding lis- 
tener, appreciating states of mind and 
points of faith, which he scarcely ex- 
pected from one in his walk of life. 



American Revolution, 



\\7'E were awakened in the dead of 
night by the sound of the conch- 
shell ! Oh, dear husband, I cannot de- 
scribe to you our consternation. Our 
turn, I thought, had at length come I 
My first thought was my precious father, 
old and feeble ; the second of the poor 
Major. They have both rooms on the 
first floor. The children clung to me 
with terror. I felt so powerless! Not 
so Charles, he was bold as a lion — your 
true son! He promptly got out the 
great gun, and loaded and fired it, which 
more than all frightened poor Marcia, 
and Grace. In vain I bade them be 
pacified; they hid their faces in my 
gown; the little things trembled with 
fear. 

Major Musgrave ordered his two men 
to their points of defence. I persuaded 
papa to go up stairs ; he appeared calm 



1777 



Nov, \otli. 



1777 



American Revolution. 



and self-possessed amid our agitation. 
We now listened intently ; not a sound 
did we hear, but the ticking of the great 
clock, and our own beating hearts. 
Again and again we listened ; all was 
still. We remained almost motionless 
until the dawn of day. The first ray of 
light was hailed with joy. Charles stole 
over to neighbor Pattison's, expecting, 
yet dreading to hear a tale of horror, 
when lo I they greeted him with a great 
burst of laughter! Now, what think 
you was the cause, the innocent cause of 
all this fear and consternation? Little 
Joseph Pattison ! This is the story of 
it: 

At noon the elder boys, while stand- 
ing around the porch, one after the other 
had been trying the strength of their 
lungs on the great conch-shell, calling 
the hired men to their dinner. Joseph 



American Re'colutlon. 



1777 



was eagerly waiting Us turn, but it never 
came at all. The meal was ready, the 
shell was put away on the high shelf 
over the door, and dinner over they 
all went to work again. 

Now little Joseph's imagination that 
night, strongly impressed with his dis- 
appointment, ran upon robbers, and the 
urgent necessity of sounding the shell. 
Up he sprang, ran down stairs, through 
two rooms, still asleep, took a chair, 
reached the conch, and blew it most 
lustily outside the back door, which 
roused the household. Down they 
come, and their astonishment is great 
to behold the little boy with the sea- 
shell in his hand, and, though undressed 
and barefooted, perspiration standing in 
beads on his forehead from the violent 
exertion I Would that our frights might 
always prove as groundless ! 



^777 



American Revolution. 



Monday. C\^ every Monday exercising is prac- 
tised opposite our house. To-day, 
when the manoeuvring w^as over, a man 
who had been found intoxicated the 
night before, was stripped and whipped 
severely, with a rattan, till the blood 
streamed down his back. Oh, it is 
dreadful to witness such horrors I I 
fled from the sight, but the heart-pierc- 
ing cries of the poor creature followed 
me. I could no longer refrain from 
running out of the house, and begging 
them to desist. They paid no attention, 
and closed the gate upon me. The rat- 
tan struck his cheek, perhaps by acci- 
dent, cut it open, and it bled terribly I 
I screamed out " murder !" They were 
startled, and stopped. The appealing 
look of gratitude I received from the 
poor maimed soldier was sweet reward. 
Mary Pattison, whose sympathy for 



American Revolution, 



the suffering never failed, took the poor 
creature in; commiserating his pitiful 
condition, she dressed his wounds, which 
were frightfully deep, and like the good 
Samaritan, poured in the oil of conso- 
lation. 

The principles of this peace-loving 
Society are destined one day to cover 
the earth as the waters cover the sea. 
They are the same which our blessed 
Redeemer came to reveal, and sealed 
with his blood. They are Eternal 
Truth. " Love to God, and good will 
to man," He proclaimed ; and Love is 
written on the white ensign of the 
Prince of Peace I 

jQAYS of agony and nights of tears 

are my experience ; the agony of 

suspense, the tears of widowhood ! In 

imagination I have no longer a hus- 



1777 



Friday, 



^777 



American Revolution. 



band I He is slain on the field of battle, 
of which no tidings have come ; or the 
victim of neglected wounds and dis- 
ease, he is in the hands of the enemy. 
If alive and at liberty, we surely should 
long ago have heard from him. How 
can I endure it? Oh, God, endue me 
with patience, or I sink ! Thy pro- 
tection is for those who trust in thee. 
Do I ? Oh, Lord, help me, I pray 
thee! 

My father meekly reproves my impa- 
tience, and so does Major Musgrave. 
The long-suffering of the Quakers is 
also a loud rebuke. The words of our 
blessed Saviour seem to be held by them 
in sacred remembrance : " I was sick, 
and ye ministered unto me ; naked, and 
ye clothed me ; hungry, and ye fed me ; 
in prison, and ye visited me." 



American Revolution. 



1778 



"V\/'HAT extremes there are in life ! 

Robert Adams came last night 
to ask my father to unite him to Rose 
Wilson. It was strange to see two 
happy faces amid violence, gloom, and 
destruction. I was saddened when I 
thought how soon the joy beaming there 
would be clouded over in these stormy 
times. But when my father, whose heart 
is full of heavenly grace, pronounced his 
benediction upon the young, hopeful 
couple, mine responded a deep " Amen.'' 

Marcia went into the other room, and 
picked two white rosebuds off her bush, 
and some geranium leaves, which she 
tied up and gave to the sweet bride, 
who in purity and grace could almost 
vie with the flowers. 

The ceremony was performed in Ma- 
jor Musgrave's room, at his request. 
He was much affected, and gave them 



Jan. \otli. 



1778 



American Revolution, 



each at parting a gold piece, and the 
blessing, he said, of a dying man. 

After they departed. Major Musgrave 
said to me, " Madam, will you do me the 
favor to sit with me a while ? I would 
unburden my mind while I have strength, 
and make a few requests of you." 

His faithful servant, Shultz, stood at 
the back of his chair. He is as atten- 
tive as a woman could be to the comfort 
and wants of his master, and a love and 
pity passing hers, if that could be, speaks 
in his face. He talked in a low tone, 
and walked quietly about the room. 

The Major intimated to him that he 
would be alone with me for a little time. 
He disposed the pillows gently about 
his master, and withdrew. 

"As regards the war," said Major 
Musgrave, after some conversation on 
other topics, " I will say to you, 1 regret 



American Revolution. 



1778 



having ever engaged in it, and had it 
pleased God to have spared my life, it 
was my determination to have retired 
from the service." 

I was surprised to hear this avowal, 
for a more loyal subject of King George, 
and dearer lover of England, cannot be 
found. Major Musgrave proceeded to 
say that it was a most wick-ed and un- 
natural war. " The very idea," said he, 
" of shooting down men who speak the 
same language and own a common ori- 
gin, is monstrous. My share in it hath 
pierced me with sorrow. 

" I shall never be able," he continued, 

" to show the sincerity of my repentance ; 

but, my dear madam, I speak the truth 

before the Searcher of hearts. You will 

believe this, my solemn asseveration. 

Time is drawing to a close. It hath 

pleased God to try me and sift me sorely 
5 97 



1778 



American Revolution, 



in this life. I have grievously rebelled 
against his will ; have murmured, have 
mourned, have wept, have agonized. 
My spirit hath beat so long and unre- 
mittingly against the bars of the prison- 
house, that at last it sinks weak and 
powerless. And it is in this passive, 
childlike state, that the first germs of 
daybreak, the first faint whispers of 
hope and peace, have visited me. And 
yet the strength is wanting now, to 
sing the song of praise and 'thanks- 
giving." 

I was awed to witness the devotional 
state of mind to which divine grace had 
brought Major Musgrave. 

He continued. 

" And now, my dearest lady, how can 
I express my overflowing gratitude to 
you ? I who have been so burdensome, 
who have trespassed so long and so 



American Revolution. 



1778 



much on the truest, the most patient 
kindness?" 

My heart leaped at this noble acknow- 
ledgement of the little we had done. 
I assured him that we should be rejoiced, 
and amply repaid, to feel assured that 
we had alleviated one pang, or beguiled 
one hour of his suffering mind and body. 
And when I remember, dear Edward, 
the day the poor wounded man* was 
brought here, how troubled and willing 
to be rid of the charge I was, conscience 
smote me, and I felt that I deserved no 
thanks. The edifying contemplation of 
such patient sorrow and unselfishness is 
worth purchasing, at ten times the in- 
convenience. 

Major Musgrave continued. 

" I have one request to make, which 
I trust your honored father will not be 

displeased with. It is, that my body 

99 



1778 American Revolution. 



may be laid in the Friends' burial-place. 
The desire I have expressed, will prove 
the influence which their principles have 
obtained upon my mind; my admira- 
tion of opinions so new to me is great. 
The neighboring family, the Pattison 
family, do so beautifully enforce and ex- 
emplify them, the head of it especially. 
I have, and shall ever venerate the 
Church of England, the church of my 
forefathers, of my mother. But the 
peaceful tenets of this simple people 
come home so to my state, shedding such 
balm and repose over a wounded spirit, 
that I trust the desire to find a last rest- 
ing-place with them will be regarded." 

He requested that the service for the 
burial of the dead should be read at his 
grave. 

I assured Major Musgrave of my 

sympathy and appreciation of his feel- 

100 



American Revolution, 



1778 



ings. Nor do I think this change to be 
wondered at in one fresh from witness- 
ing and experiencing, in his own per- 
son, the sickening horrors and dreadful 
evils of War. My own wretched sus- 
pense and anxiety doubtless has its influ- 
ence. I am trying to write down thought; 
to beguile myself a little while of mise- 
rable fears. 

The Major placed in my hands a 
manuscript. He said he had written it 
for my perusal, wishing to acquaint me 
with his past experience; but feeling 
too acutely still to do so verbally. He 
requested me to present his watch to 
my father, gave a valuable ring contain- 
ing a brilliant to me, and a memento to 
each of the children. His consideration 
and composure were so sweet and touch- 
ing, that they affected me, and I could 

not refrain from tears. 

101 



1778 



American Revolution. 



I hastily quitted the room, fearing to 
excite my dear friend, and knowing that 
he required rest. 

Monday (^H, dear husband, it is a mournful 
Morning, xKmg to contemplate I A man full 

of gentle courtesy, of sensitive and 
shrinking delicacy, receiving at the hands 
of strangers, in the attitude of their 
enemy, all of sympathy or earthly sup- 
port that he can receive in his dying 
moments I It grieves me inexpressibly. 
In such circumstances all animosity of a 
public nature is completely swallowed 
up. It must be a heart of stone that is 
not moved, melted to pity ! 



Tuesday. 



pTEAVEN be praised! We have 
just heard of your safety, and of 
the surrender, though it happened so long 



sum 
smce. 

102 



American Revolution, 



1778 



General Arnold has gained a bright 
laurel in the affair ; he proved himself a 
skilful and brave officer. The surren- 
der excites great astonishment among 
the British hereabouts. "Discretion 
the better part of valor," thought Bur- 
goyne, his troops worn out, and his situa- 
tion becoming more and more critical. 

Our letters, stained and yellow, looked 
indeed as though they had come from 
the wars. I suppose we receive only 
about one in six. 

The American cause seems to assume 
a brighter aspect since this event. It 
will doubtless Inspire confidence in its 
ultimate success. The cause of free- 
dom — Heaven grant it I 



'T^HERE is an old proverb which 

saith, " It is an ill wind which blows 

nobody good." The Hessians and sol- 



Monday. 



'778 



AincriCi in Rcvolu/io/i. 



dicrs billeted about here for six months 
past, left to-day for the mainland cam- 
paign, and the robbery, from which we 
have for some time been exempt, will 
now go on again. The villains feared 
the soldiery; dreadful tax as it is to 
keep them, it is nothing in comparison 
to the other evil. 



T/i/irsi/iiv. 



T^HE robbers have been over already; 
they landed last night at the har- 
bor. In the dead of night they sur- 
rounded the house of John Pearsall, 
He is called rich, and there is no doubt 
they counted on large booty. Their 
first care is generally to prevent escapes, 
lest the alarm should be given to the 
neighbors. Whenever they have rea- 
son to think that any one has escaped 
to inform, they invariably scamper, fear- 



mg surprise. 

101 



On finding his house so 



AincricLiii RcvoltiHoii. 



77« 



hcuiniccl in, Mr. Poarsall, who was tin; 
only man in the lioiisc, nia(l<! a [i;r(:at 
noise and bhistcring, calhn^' Tom, John, 
and Harry to load and firc^ then ran to 
the top of the house with the- gun, and 
fired three times in (juiek suecession. 
The robbers took the alarm, jumped 
into the boat, and shoved off. Tlu'y 
were fired upon, but 1 do not know 
whedicr injured, but trust not, for they 
surely arc; not fit to die. 

Major Musgrave still Kngers. I found 
him very weak to-day, but in no pain, 
for which I desire to be thankful. He 
appeareth very sad at times; was so to- 
day. I tried to soothe and comfort him, 
assuring him again that I would attend 
to all his wishes; write a particular ac- 
count to his mother, whom he fondly 
loves, of his last words, of liis constant 
consideration and thoughtfulness of 



1778 



American Revolution. 



others, his patience, and of his hope of 
pardon and peace, vouchsafed to him in 
the holy calm and perfect rehance which 
he is often favored to experience. 

I besought him to cast all his care 
upon Him who careth for us. We re- 
mained for a few moments in sweet and 
solemn silence, and when I rose to leave 
the room, and remarked that I thought 
he was in a peaceful frame of mind, the 
poor man, or rather the rich man, bowed 
his head in assent, and said, " Bless the 
Lord, O my soul. All that is within 
me, bless his holy name." 



Saturday A TALE of horror has just come to 
Evening. ^^j. ^2iX?>\ we have not heard the 

details, nor do I wish to, they are so 
horrible. It seems the Runners entered 
the house of John Wilson, and threat- 
ened, until the wife, to save the life of 



American Revolution. 



1778 



her husband, revealed the hiding-place. 
But it was too late ; he died the next 
morning from a sabre-cut which he then 
received, cleaving the skull and occa- 
sioning so great loss of blood. The vil- 
lains took a large sum of money, which 
was in silver coin, in bags under the 
hearthstone. Mr. Wilson was much 
beloved in the neighborhood ; his death 
produced the greatest excitement and 
indignation. 

I went over to Henry Pattison's this 
evening; he, with his wife, had just re- 
turned from the scene of the dreadful 
catastrophe ; they never witnessed any 
thing more distressing than Mrs. Wil- 
son's state — wringing her hands continu- 
ally with grief and horror, and at times 
quite out of her mind. A great com- 
pany is out in search of the robbers. 




American Revolution. 



Monday. 'T^WO out of three were taken last 
evening, the other had gone off 
with the money. It is said that the 
serving girl connived with the thieves, 
one of whom was her cousin. How 
awful to contemplate ! I suppose Tory 
influence will screen them; they were 
sent to New York this morning strongly 
guarded. The times are so disordered, 
that we have to keep still, and bear 
everything; complaint seemeth utterly 
useless. 



Tuesday. TUST received the joyful news of the 
•^ Treaty of Alliance with France. My 
heart beats tremulously with hope and 
expectation, and yet I scarcely know 
what to hope for. Can I, a woman, 
wife, and mother, delight in warfare, or 
desire the destruction of the children of 
? No! May God 



a common origm 

108 



American Revolution. 



1778 



of his merciful goodness grant a speedy 
termination of the war I This be my 
prevailing, my fervent prayer. 

It is thought the news of General 
Burgoyne's surrender decided the nego- 
tiations, by giving strong encourage- 
ment. 

My father is very quiet about the 
news; he longs for peace, but cannot 
turn against his dear native England. 
He loves her with all her provocation, 
or in spite of it. 

Nor have I spoken of the treaty to 
Major Musgrave, but would rather spare 
his feelings ; he is too low to be dis- 
turbed with human affairs. 



A BAND of ruffians entered the house 

of Mr. Miller at East Hampton, at 

midnight, when the men folk were 

absent. Mrs. Miller caught up her 



Thursday. 



778 



American Revolution. 



youngest child, an infant, and ran out 
at the back door ; the next, a Httle boy 
of four years, crept under a table to get 
out of sight. But one of the creatures 

spied him, and saying, " Here's a d d 

little rebel," stuck his poignard into his 
thigh, making a severe wound. Think 
of the savage hardness of the heart of 
the man, who would inflict injury upon 
an innocent helpless child ! 



Monday. A SCENE took place at neighbor 
Pattison's the day before the red- 
coats left, which I will note down for 
your amusement ; for when the battles 
are fought, the victory won, and we sit 
down beneath our own vine and fig-tree, 
to con together these pages, we will 
weep and smile over them, and bless 
Heaven that the trials and dangers are 
past. 



American Revolution. 



>778 



Well, Edith hath been sadly perse- 
cuted of late by one of the officers, Cap- 
tain Morton. And I am of opinion that 
she would rather favor his suit, if he 
were anything but a soldier; but love 
will not run away with her judgment. 
He is a high-spirited, noble-looking 
young man, and desperately in love 
with Edith, which surely is not to be 
wondered at. Being constantly in her 
train in their time of leisure, several 
gentlemen have become enamored of 
her. 

On this occasion she was in the sitting- 
room, spinning. I he^rd that Captain 
Morton had said that he would waste 
all day to see Edith spin. Indeed she 
does look serenely beautiful, and stately, 
as, with measured though light step, she 
throws the great wheel, while her deli- 
cate fingers hold the slender thread. 



.778 



American Revolution. 



The wheel as it goes round makes a 
monotonous, sad sound which I love to 
hear. So, often when Bridget spins, I 
open the door of the upper room, that 
the sound thereof may reach me be- 
low, where I sit sewing, or teaching 
the children. It reminds me of the 
fall winds among the withered lea\''es, 
or the distant sound of rushing wa- 
ters. 

Well, I doubt not Edith was enjoy- 
ing her own pure and peaceful thoughts, 
when Captain Morton entered the room. 
She was grieved to see him, thinking 
and consoling herself that he had wholly 
left these parts, in that she heard no tid- 
ings of him for many days. 

He began abruptly to speak, say- 
ing, 

"Edith, you have not seen me for 
some time, in accordance with your 

112 



American Revolution. 



1778 



wish ; I have been making trial of my 
power of self-control. Look at me ; 
behold my success I " 

She directed her attention to the young 
man, and was struck with the change 
which was manifest in his appearance. 
From the handsome, fine-loqking Bri- 
tisher that he was, he had become pale, 
stooping, and hollow-eyed. 

" Give me hope, or I die ; some word 
of comfort ; a look or tone of love ; 
some promise for my thoughts to feed 
on, to sustain me in absence. To-mor- 
row with this precious boon I go ; with- 
out it, this is my resource." 

Thus saying, the desperate young 
man took his pistol from his side, and 
pointed it at his breast. Edith was ter- 
rified, but preserving that quietness of 
manner which belongs to the people of 
their sect, she left her wheel, and gently, 

113 



1778 



American Revolution. 



but firmly, took the pistol out of his 
hand, and laid it aside. 

The officer made no resistance; but 
seemed as though beneath a spell. The 
spell was the serene sweetness and com- 
posure of her demeanor. 

"The intemperance thou showest," 
said Edith, " would intimidate me from 
forming any closer intimacy with thee. 
Besides, how dost thou think it would 
seem to my parents and to Friends, that 
I should contract an engagement with 
one who holds it no wrong to lift up 
sword against his fellow-man ? " 

"Edith, do not set down against me 
that in which I had no control. Am I 
to be blamed for being bred to the 
profession of arms, that I am become 
the instrument of power to suppress 
the rebel colonies *? The members of 
your Society are generally supposed 



Afiierican Revolution. 



1778 



to be on the side of the Mother Coun- 
try." 

"It is true," said Edith, "they are 
called 'Tories., but unjustly, as they espouse 
neither cause. From their great princi- 
ple, ' Resist not evil,' and submission to 
the powers that be, they are opposed to 
the rising of the people against the 
Mother Country." 

(Her father, I have a strong suspi- 
cion, wishes, though very cautious, suc- 
cess to the cause of freedom.) 

Captain Morton said, "You surely, 
Edith, wish to see the rebellion quelled, 
and order and quiet restored ^ " 

" I desire peace most fervently ; but 
you, our brethren, have oppressed us 
wrongfully, trodden upon our rights, 
and domineered over us until patience 
hath had her perfect work, and seemeth 
to be no longer a virtue. And I will 



//" 



American Resolution. 



venture to predict that the side which 
so wise, so temperate, so just a man as 
George Washington leads, will be the 
successful one. Heaven will smile 
upon it." 

The Captain was certainly surprised 
at this earnest ebullition of feeling, and 
disappointed too. But his love over- 
bears all, and makes him take rebuke 
from Edith most patiently. 

He said he would reflect upon her 
remarks; his hopes seemed to have 
risen, why, she knew not; he took her 
hand in his, and pressed it to his lips. 
She promised to remember him with 
kindness, and they parted. 

She will doubtless hear from him 
again, which I think she will not regret.'^ 



^' This young officer's love for Edith led him to 
remain in this country after independence was 



Ainerican Revolution. 



1778 



'npHE British Ministry begin to speak 
of American affairs with more mod- 
eration. It is probably the effect of the 
fate of their Northern Army, and the 
Alliance ^ith France. Lord North laid 
before Parliament bills for conciliation, 
and commissioners are appointed to 
bring terms of accommodation. The 
day is passed for that. Two years ago 
perhaps reconciliation might have been 
effected; but we have proceeded too 
far, we are too sanguine of success, to 
admit now of listening to any terms, 
but acknowledgment of our indepen- 
dence. 



May ^tlu 



achieved, and, in the course of time, and through 
her influence, he became a consistent member of the 
Society of Friends, and her beloved, and loving hus- 
band. 



1778 



Ainerican Revolution. 



Monday, 
June i6th. 



]y[AJOR MUSGRAVE is no more. 
His conflict is over, and he sleep- 
eth in peace. 

My father had been much with him 
during the day. He was distressed at 
times with difficulty in breathing. In 
an interval of quiet he read to him (my 
father) the beautiful Visitation of the 
Sick. Those comfortable words seemed 
like the dew to the parched herbage ; 
his soul drank them in and was refreshed. 
In an hour after he fell asleep, and we 
thought the summons might be delayed 
some time longer; but at midnight I 
was called by Shultz. I went quickly ; 
but when I leaned over the bedside to 
catch the faintest whisper, the dying 
man tried to speak but could not. He 
pressed my hand, and raised his eyes to 
heaven; this action, and the ineffably 
grateful expression of his countenance 

118 



American Revolution, 



1778 



said, as plainly as words could, " God 
Mess you ! " 

Major Musgrave had become so near 
in sympathy and interest to us all, 
that it seems like the loss of a dear 
friend. 

It costs us some effort to obey his 
injunction as regardeth his last resting- 
place. It seems to my father a strange 
request ; but it shall be held sacred. 



'TpHE body was to-day laid in the 
green burial-ground, near the meet- 
ing-house of the Friends. It was fol- 
lowed to the place by three companies 
of soldiers, marching to the solemn 
music and the muffled drum. 

The sublime and impressive words of 
the Burial Service were read by my dear 
father. How they appeared to awe 
every one I 



119 



Thursday 
Evening. 



1778 



American Revolution. 



'' Man that Is lorn of a osoman hath hit 
a short time to live^ and is fiill of misery. 
He Cometh up and is cut down like afffiver ; 
he Jieeth as it were a shadow^ and never con- 
timieth in one stayT 

These words convey a mournful les- 
son, but those which follow are full of 
hope. 

" 7 heard a voice from heaven saying unto 
;//<?, IVrite from henceforth^ Blessed are the 
dead who die in the Lord {in faith and love 
to hini)\ Even so, saith tlie Spirit ; for they 
rest from their labors'' 

The firing over the dead, awakening 
thoughts of strife and battle, was in 
painful contrast to these life-giving 
words. The echoes of that peaceful 
spot had never before been thus awak- 
ened. Though many soldiers of the 
cross lie there, this is the first, and likely 
to be the only, instance on record, of a 

120 



American Revolution, 



1778 



soldier of earthly combat and carnal 
weapons taking there his last rest. 

There is no stone to mark the spot; 
but by a young tree growing near / 
know it, and my thoughts will often 
visit it. 



A LONG, sad day; no news from 
my dear husband, and the house so 
desolate I The engrossing occupation 
gone, my hands hang idly, while anxiety 
and care reign within. Even the chil- 
dren's prattle sounds discordant to a 
mother's ear, which is attuned only to 
stories of violence and outrage, which 
are so familiar they excite no surprise. 
Yet fear, and dread, and horror, never 
flee away. 

I will strive, lest despair take entire 
possession of my soul; and, "faint, 
though pursuing," follow the rugged 



Friday, 



1778 



American Revolution. 



path my Saviour trod, that leads to 
peace enduring, and a crown of joy. 
" He is a strength to the needy in his 
distress; a refuge from the storm; a 
shadow from the heat." 



Saturdaw 



T HAVE been employed to-day in 
putting up with great care everything 
belonging to Major Musgrave, that they 
may be sent, when occasion offers, to 
his friends in England. In a little box 
of spice-wood (of which he gave me 
the key) I found the packet of letters 
and papers left for my perusal, and put 
them away for some future time. Re- 
collection is too fresh now. 

The consciousness that my feeble 
efforts were made to assuage his grief 
(and it is my conviction that Major 
Alusgrave's sorrows were deeper than 
met the eye), to smooth his passage to 



American Rccolution. 



1778 



the tomb, and to comfort his last hours 
with sympathy and care, is full of in- 
ward peace and satisfaction. 



T RECEIVED, dearest Edward, to- 
day, your charming letter of the 15th 
August. 

The arrival of the French fleet, twelve 
ships of the line and four frigates, under 
command of Count d'Estaigne, is joyful 
news. 

The British troops remain inactive in 
New York since the battle of Mon- 
mouth. The American loss that day 
was small; but the great heat occa- 
sioned many deaths, and much grievous 
suffering in both armies. 

I look forward to the day with trem- 
bling eagerness when all shall be over, 
and we shall be in the enjoyment of the 
peace earned so dearly ; for though you^ 



Tuesday. 



1778 



American Revolution. 



my dear Edward, never stopped to 
count the cost, when you enlisted life, 
limb, and fortune in the cause, 7 cannot 
help thinking sometimes, in my de- 
sponding moments, that the risk of life 
and limb, neglect of affairs, loss of pro- 
perty, of health, of ease, of comfort, is 
the tremendous price of liberty. You 
say " she is worth ten times as many 
sacrifices, if could be, than these even." 
She may be to those surviving to enjoy 
and reap her laurels, but patriotism in 
my breast, just now, is too faint a 
spark to glory in perspective, in a 
hero's memory, though embalmed in 
tears I 

It seemeth too dear at such a price. 
Bear with me, my husband ; you know 
I am sorely tried. I will strive for more 
patience and submission, and commit 
thy precious life to the care of Him, 

124 



American Revolution. 



.778 



without whom not a sparrow falleth to 
the ground. 

Amid all the trouble and gloom sur- 
rounding, a ludicrous incident will pro- 
voke a smile. 



T AST night the Runners appeared 
round a house near West-Town, and 
were about forcing a door in front when 
they were discovered. John Rawlins, 
the owner, sent a negro up stairs to fire 
when the word was given. It was a 
bright moonlight night, and he saw the 
creatures step up to the door from a 
window near it with -^ pane of glass out. 
In alarm, he looked out for something 
wherewith to defend himself; seeing the 
broom, he took it for want of something 
better, and ran it through the broken 
window. It touched the shoulder, and 
grazed the cheek of one of the villains. 



Wednesday. [ 



1778 



American Revolution, 



who, supposing it to be a loaded gun, 
cried out piteously, " Oh, heavens, don't 
kill me!" as though he had never an 
evil intention towards any one. 

The signal was now given, and the 
man above fired; they soon scattered, 
leaving Jown Rawlins aiming his broom- 
stick through the broken window-pane I 

Thursday. TV/TY precious father is obliged to go 
to New York; it is to him a 
great undertaking. He dreads impedi- 
ments of every kind, having arrived at 
the age so feelingly described in holy 
writ, " When the grasshopper shall be a 
burden, and desire shall fail, and fears 
shall be in the way." 

Friday. 'T^HEY left this morning (papa and 

Charles) in the chariot. Received 

a condoling and scolding letter from 

Aunt Barbara. She dwells feelingly on 

126 



American Revolution. 



1778 



you, in that you have joined the rebels, 
whose cause, she appears to think, is 
that of anarchy, confusion, and insubor- 
dination. "She dreads to look at the 
end to which it will bring us ; confisca- 
tion, contumely, and perhaps the forfei- 
ture of life." 

Dear, simple soul ! The possibility 
of the struggle being successful, and the 
yoke shaken off, never seems to have 
entered her imagination. I suppose she 
pities mir delusion, while we commise- 
rate liers ! Heaven only knows which 
the most justly. 



JJOUSE-BREAKING, horse-stealing, 
and depredation are so common, 
that I am weary of noting them down, 
and have pretty much ceased to do so. 
But as an incident occurred last night 
which illustrates and proves the power 



Saturday. 



1778 



Ajiierkan Revolution. 



of the Law of Love, it must not pass 
unrecorded. 

The Runners came over from the 
main shore to attack the house of Ste- 
phen Willetts, a Quaker; he stands 
high in the Society, is a preacher, and 
devout man. The family had retired ; 
he first took the alarm, and knew in a 
moment that his time of trial had come. 
He made (he says) a mental ejaculation 
of prayer to God for grace, to do and 
say the thing that was right. 

Thus led, who can doubt that his 
petition was granted ? The demon of 
Fear was cast out by the angel of Love. 
He threw open wide the door and said, 
" Walk in friends, and warm yourselves, 
it is chilly this evening." He threw 
wood on the fire, and kept talking so 
kindly, that the men, though ever so 
evilly disposed, had not time to say a 

1-28 



American Revolution. 



word. He then went and called at the 
foot of the stairs for his servant ; " Cae- 
sar, come 'down; get ready some supper 
for these friends. They must be very 
cold, and need refreshment." Minced 
pies, meat and bread, were put upon the 
table, and cider ordered to be drawn. 

The robbers looked at each other in 
silent amazement; but the old man's 
kindness was so pressing, and seemed 
so hearty, it was out of their power to 
refuse; so they sat down and partook 
of his good cheer. After they had eaten, 
Mr. Willetts told them when they wished 
their beds were ready. They were now 
completely overcome ; their hard hearts 
melted, making them as unable to begin 
the work of plunder as though bound 
in chains of iron ! One of them spoke, 
and said that they had some distance to' 
go on the morrow, and as they were up, 

^ 129 



1778 



1778 



American Revolution. 



they might as well walk a few miles 
farther. They then thanked the Friend 
for his kindness, and bade him good 
night. As they walked out they could 
but ill conceal the knives and pistols 
they bore about them. 



Tuesday. pAPA and Charles safely returned; 
the latter much excited by all he 
saw, and the former cheerful and well, 
having met with no difficulties. I trust 
that he may be spared to see many good 
days, or ever the silver cord be loosed, 
or the golden bowl broken. 

Charles gave me a vivid description 
of the plains around Jamaica, which 
were filled with white tents, and pre- 
sented a pretty and lively aspect. In 
the village of Bruyklin, he says there 
are built many small one-story houses 
for the soldiers. 



American Revolution. 


1778 


He saw a sight too in New York, 
which, with your republican notions, 
dearest Edward, would excite little emo- 
tion; but the very mention of which 
made the blood tingle in my veins. 
They saw a Prince of the blood royal ! 
Prince William Henry .^^' 

He is about seventeen years old, very 
stout (my father thinks) for that age. 
The royal family are said to be inclined 
that way. King George is portly. The 
young Prince wears the British army 
uniform ; he has a pleasant countenance, 
but very crooked, knock-kneed legs, of 
which you must knov/ papa is a keen 
observer, a handsome limb being in his 
eyes of no small importance in view of 
personal appearance. 

They saw the Prince passing down 




* Afterwards King William IV. of England. 

131 



1779 



American Revolution, 



Queen Street. My father took off his 
hat as he walked near, and bade Charles 
do the same. This may be a great 
weakness ; but the seed sown in youth 
by the honored dead, and nourished and 
grown with the growth, cannot be rooted 
out in a day. 

The French fleet has sailed for the 
West Indies without having accom- 
plished anything of importance, being 
unsuccessful in all its enterprises. A 
great disappointment. Well, if no other 
good effect follows, its presence inspired 
confidence in the Continental army, 
and importance in the eyes of the 
enemy. 



'T^HERE is great distress from the 
depreciation of our bills of credit ; 
it dispirits and enfeebles exertion. Gene- 
ral Washington sorely perplexed amid 



132 



uimerkan Revolution. 



'%o 



his murmuring men. Heaven grant 
speedy relief ! '" * ^* '"- '^ * 
(The Journal is defective here, and 
several letters are wanting.) 



gATTLE of Camden. i6th August. 
Hard fought. The Continentals 
defeated. Baron de Kalb, a Prussian 
gentleman, slain. The second officer in 
command. 

The greater part of our forces, mili- 
tia, who fled at the first fire, and could 
not be rallied, which I cannot find in 
my woman's heart to condemn, dear as 
freedom is to its every pulse. I can so 
vividly fancy myself standing up for the 
first time before the enemy's murderous 
batteries, and the courage oozing out at 
my finger ends. 



Sept. loth. 



133 



1780 



American Revolutioti. 



Tuesday, "VTEWS to-day of the arrival of an- 
other French fleet. Seven ships 
of the Hne ; 6,000 land troops, com- 
manded by Count de Rochambeau, at 
Rhode Island. 

Will give new life to Congress and 
the army. 



October ^th. 



A LETTER from my husband; still 
inactive, the South having now be- 
come the principal seat of action, which 
I do not regret. The French fleet re- 
turned to France I Thus has perished 
our hope of naval assistance. It seems 
unaccountable. The land forces re- 



mam. 



Thursday. 



A DEEPLY interesting document 
from Edward, in which is recorded 
a most detestable and flagrant instance 
of treachery. 



134 



American Revolution. 



1780 



The Lord be praised, we have been 
deUvered from the consequences ! 

A plot of General Benedict Arnold 
for giving into the hands of the enemy 
the fortress of West Point I Who can 
imagine what might have been the re- 
sult had not the despicable design been 
providentially frustrated ? 

Arnold has acted with bravery in 
several actions. It is said the cause of 
his dreadful defection is that the laurels 
which lie won at Saratoga were awarded 
to General Gates by Congress, and but 
little notice taken of his valor on that 
occasion. Is this any excuse for such 
Satanic revenge? A bad man, and 
never a true lover of his country. 

A patriot would drain his heart's blood 
for her, even though she should prove 
ungrateful. 



135 



lySo 



American Revolution. 



Saturday, QENERAL GREENE appointed to 
the command of the Southern divi- 
sion. 



Monday. ^HIS neighborhood is still infested 
with the odious Hessians. They 
are so filthy and lazy, lounging about 
all day long, smoking and sleeping. 
The patience of the good Friends is 
inexhaustible. After filling up their 
parlors, kitchens, and bed-rooms, the 
whole winter with chests, liquor-casks, 
hammocks, bird-cages, guns, boots, and 
powder-flasks, they were last week or- 
dered to Jamaica. Oh the rejoicing I 
It veould flash out of the eye, though 
their discreet tongues spake it not. 

The moment the Hessians took their 
leave Friend Pattison caused the broken 
places in the wall to be repaired, for the 
Colonel's lady had the room ornamented 

136 



American Revolution, 



1780 



all around with stuffed parrots, perched 
on sticks driven in the wall. The quar- 
terly meeting of the Society is near at 
hand. They expect friends and rela- 
tions to stop with them, and make pre- 
parations for their reception. 

Well, all were putting their houses in 
order, when the appalling news spread like 
wildfire — " T7zi? Hessians are coining hack!" 

Running to the window, I descried 
them in the distance like a cloud of 
locusts, dusky and dim ; but the fife 
and drum, assailing our ears, if we 
needed additional evidence, convinced 
us that it was too true. They had in- 
deed been ordered back. How many 
tears of vexation I shed I 



]y[AJOR ANDRE ! How my heart 

bleeds for him I 'Tis true he was 

a spy, and he dies the death of a spy; 



137 



Monday. 



lySo American Revolution. 



but his many noble traits and accom- 
plishments, ardent temperament, intrepi- 
dity and gentleness, win admiration, and 
excite compassion and regret. I cannot 
think of his bitter fate. General Wash- 
ington, it is thought, would have granted 
his last affecting request (to die by the 
musket), but others sternly just, refused 
the boon, and he died ignominiously. 

My father knew his family, and re- 
members hi/n. A noble, handsome-look- 
ing man ; tall, and of a remarkably well- 
proportioned person. 

He is spoken of by the officers as the 
soul of honor. It seems strange that a 
person of his character could engage in 
such an undertaking. The noble senti- 
ment of Amor Patriae becomes soiled 
when made the plea for clandestine ac- 
tions, which will not bear the scrutiny 
of justice, the light of day. 



American Revolution. 



1780 



And yet I grieve at his sad end. Is it 
on account of his fascinating quahties, the 
blandishment which rank, beauty, and 
chivalrous bearing cast around him? 
Or is it simply as a man that I pity and 
deplore him'? 

I trust he would have my sympathy, 
were he the humblest private in the 
British army. 

Major Andre had an unfortunate at- 
tachment, and died with the miniature 
of the young lady close to his heart. 
An ignominious death — how shocking 



to his feel 



mgs 



T HAVE not courage yet to open Ma- 
jor Musgrave's manuscript, having a 
presentiment that it will be of a very sad 
nature. 



Tuesday. 



TTNTO how many evanescent things 
is human life likened in Holy Writ ! 



139 



Thursday. 



i78o 



American Revolution. 



Tuesda 



jy. 



"What is your life>? It is even a 
vapor that appeareth for a little time 
and then vanisheth away." 

" As the night-watch that is past. As 
a dream of the night." 

" As for man, his days are as grass : 
as a flower of the field so he flourisheth. 
For the wind passeth over it, and it is 
gone ; and the place thereof shall know 
it no more." 

T^HE neighborhood has been more 
quiet for a week past, and the Hes- 
sians have really left, bag and baggage, 
for which Heaven be praised! They 
are like the locusts of Egypt, desolating 
the land, and eating up every green 
thing. 



JVednesday. " fTE will give the oil of joy for mourn- 
ing, and the garment of praise 



Ameriaan Revolution. 



1780 



for the spirit of heaviness." These com- 
forting words have been in my thoughts 
this day, making me peaceful. I have 
hstened to the still small voice within 
me. Oh that I could be enabled to do 
this oftener ! How much care and tur- 
moil of spirit would It lighten I 



"^rO news of importance. A depu- 
tation of Friends was sent last 
month to a place called Nine Partners, 
about twenty miles east of the Hudson 
River. Henry Pattlson was one of the 
number; he gives a very interesting 
account of their progress. They crossed 
the water to Mamaroneck, and pro- 
ceeded to White Plains. They had 
some questioning to undergo from the 
enemy, as they were obliged to pass the 
Continental lines; and coming from 
Long Island, where the British power Is 



Thursday, 



178o 



American Reyokition. 



supreme, they had fears of being stopped; 
still, beheving themselves to be in the 
way of their religious duty, they per- 
severed. They passed near General 
Washington's head-quarters. On ap- 
proaching, they were stopped, examined 
severely, and handed over to the Com- 
mittee of Safety, which declared they 
could not allow them to proceed con- 
sistently with the orders they had re- 
ceived. 

They then desired that General Wash- 
ington might be informed of their deten- 
tion, and requested that he would give 
them an interview. It was granted; 
they were received with marked defer- 
ence and respect. It is the custom of 
this peculiar sect to speak with modera- 
tion, never in strong terms, either in 
condemnation or praise, complimentary 
language being specially disapproved 



American Revolution. 



1780 



of. But I can gather from their quaint 
though guarded phrase, that they were 
much struck with the elegance and dig- 
nity of General Washington's person 
and address. 

Friend Pattison admitted that he was 
a Hkely man, and conducted with great 
propriety. As much praise as they 
could be expected to bestow upon " a 
fighting character." 

After politely requesting them to be 
seated, the General made close inquiry 
relating to the British force on the 
island. 

His manner being calculated to in- 
spire confidence, they very candidly told 
all they knew, and acquainted him with 
some facts before unknown to him. 

General Washington inquired where 
they passed the night, and said he was 
entirely convinced, from his knowledge 



i78o 



American Revolution. 



of their Society, and of the person with 
whom they tarried, that their object was, 
as they represented, entirely rehgious. 
He apologized for their detention, say- 
ing, it seemed unavoidable, and if they 
returned the same way, he should be 
happy to hear of their success in seeing 
their friends. 

When the humble company entered 
the General's presence, an aide stepped 
up, and hinted to them the propriety of 
removing their hats. 

Henry Pattison said, "In presence 
of God in prayer alone, do we bow the 
uncovered head. Before kings, or the 
mightiest of earth's potentates, this re- 
spect is not shown. In Ris sight there 
is no respect of persons; in ours, all 
men are brethren." 

General Washington said he was well 
acquainted with their customs, and some 

144 



American Revolution, 



1780 



of his best friends were of their body. 
He advised them to go forward, and 
always plainly tell the truth. 

On their return, passing again near 
the camp, they availed themselves of 
General Washington's invitation. He 
appeared deeply interested in their rela- 
tion of what they had seen and heard, 
and dismissed them with kind assurances 
of regard, requesting them to represent 
to the enemy whatever they chose, as 
he knew they would tell only the truth, 
in which he was willing to trust. 



pUBLIC affairs engage but little atten- 
tion hereabouts ; each family is ab- 
sorbed in its own toils and privations. 

Benedict Arnold has received, as a 
reward of treachery, the appointment of 
Brigadier-General in the British army, 
and, it is said, a large amount of money 

7 145 



Friday. 



i78o 



American Revolution. 



besides. Small compensation for the 
forfeiture of honor, principle, reputation, 
all that man holds dear ! A bold, am- 
bitious, bad man, pitiless and selfish, he 
betrayed his country from ..the unworthy 
motive of revenge. True, he served 
her nobly in the expedition to Quebec, 
and proved himself on other occasions 
a fearless officer, and Congress awarded 
too little praise, and acted perhaps un- 
wisely in promoting younger men before 
him ; but personal aggrandizement, and 
not patriotism, actuated him ; while the 
love of freedom, devotion to right and 
justice, is the principle of action of 
Washington, Greene, and Montgomery, 
whose memory many a tear will em- 
balm, and whose heroic bravery, beauty, 
graceful attractiveness, and melancholy 
fate, will form the theme of praise and 
regret to beings yet unborn. 



.American Revolution, 



1780 



TN reading my Bible to-day I came 
to that beautiful passage : " And 
nation shall not lift: up sword against 
nation, nor learn war any more. The 
sword shall be turned into the plough- 
share, and the spear into the pruning- 
hook." It appears to indicate that the 
peaceful pursuits of agriculture will pre- 
vail over the earth, and war and devas- 
tation cease. May God hasten the day I 
Yet the resistance of the Colonies 
against oppression is righteous and just. 
This land is destined to be the Home 
of the Free. It seems as though God, 
having prepared and decreed it for the 
refuge of the persecuted and the wretched 
of the earth, had opened the eyes of the 
hardy Spaniards, whose faith was cer- 
tainty, and whose adventurous spirit 
never flagged, revealing the existence 
of a broad continent over the wide wa- 



Tuesday. 



1780 



American Revolution, 



ters, which appeared to others a wild 
chimera. And then the indomitable 
perseverance of the early settlers, which 
no difficulties could daunt, no hardship 
subdue. The piety and self-denial of 
the Puritans ; the enthusiastic faith and 
devotion of the Covenanters, the Hu- 
guenots, in deep baptism of sorrow ; all 
here came, the chosen of God, to a place 
prepared for them in wisdom and mercy 
— the Canaan to the Israelites! Over 
these broad lands and fertile fields a 
race is to spread, and become like the 
leaves of the forest, or the sands of the 
sea, for numbers. Here liberty, peace, 
and plenty shall prevail beneath the 
benignant smile of the Lord. But never 
may we or our children's children, like 
the Israelites, wax wanton, and turn 
against the God of all our mercies I 
The declension of the Covenant peo- 



American Revolution. 



1780 



pie is affectingly portrayed in the eighth 
chapter of Deuteronomy, and fearful 
denunciation is pronounced against those 
in such a case. 

"For the Lord thy God bringeth 
thee into a good land, a land of brooks 
of water, of fountains, and depths that 
spring out of valleys and hills; a land 
of wheat, and barley, and vines, and fig- 
trees, and pomegranates ; a land of olive 
oil, of milk and honey; a land wherein 
thou shalt eat bread without scarceness. 
Thou shalt not lack anything in it. A 
land whose stones are iron, and out of 
whose hills thou mayest dig brass. And 
thou say in thine heart, My power, and 
the might of mine hand, hath gotten 
me this wealth. But thou shalt remem- 
ber the Lord thy God, for it is He that 
giveth thee power to get wealth." 



lySo 



American Revolution. 



Monday. 



PLUNDER, rapine, and violence still 
go on, and " the end doth not ap- 
pear." With Job I feel that I can 
almost say, " My soul is weary of my 
life." This long separation is hard to 
be borne. Lord save me from selfish 
repinings, enable me to renounce my 
own wishes and desires for the common 
weal ; and in thy good time restore my 
husband to us, and peace and freedom to 
this tempest-tossed and afflicted people. 



Wednesday. T AST night Mr. Burr, a storekeeper, 
was asleep in the store (as was his 
custom, for the purpose of guarding it), 
when he was aroused by a noise at the 
window, which was so heavily barred 
that though they bored the shutter, and 
tugged at it a great while, they could 
not open it. Near the top of the shut- 
ter there is unfortunately a small open- 



150 



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1780 


ing to admit the light. Through this 
one of the villains put his gun and fired, 
killing Mr. Burr. The ball passed 
through his body, as he was sitting up 
in bed. The wretches then fled, and 
their victim lived but a few moments, 
just long enough to tell the particulars. 
When will deliverance come ? 

T^HERE is a man by the name of 
Hugh Jarvis,^ a Tory, from the 
province of New Jersey, who is ex- 
tremely persecuting and hard on the 
people, especially the unresisting Quak- 


Saturday, 


* This man, after the war, manifested the deep- 
est and most heart-felt contrition, on account of his 
brutal conduct towards the Friends. He became a 
member of their Society ; visited them, and wished 
to make any reparation in his power for the injuries 
inflicted ; and even offered his body to the smiter, 
humbling himself, and mourning his iniquities. 

151 



1780 



American Revolution. 



ers. It seems as though when once a 
man sides with the enemy, he goes 
to greater lengths to show his zeal ; or 
by bullying and threatening the un- 
offending, to hide his own shame. 

He will not listen to expostulation or 
reason, and seems to be devoid of mercy. 
He will often take the last morsel of 
hay or provender out of a barn, when 
the owner pleads for only a little, for his 
famishing cattle, for the night. 

He yesterday ordered John Perkins 
to go out with his boys, and take their 
scythes and cut the grass off some mea- 
dow-land of their own, which they 
counted on as winter feed for their crea- 
tures ; by threatening and fearful oaths 
he compelled compliance. But it was 
a hard day's work. 



152 



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1780 



A DREADFUL deed was committed 
last night. Four persons came over 
from the mainland and attacked the 
house of Richard Albertson. They sur- 
rounded it, and one of them knocked 
loudly at the door. Knowing it to be 
useless to resist, he got up and opened 
it; they entered, and with violent ges- 
tures told him to hand them all his 
money. He is considered a wealthy 
farmer, and they doubtless knew it. He 
said he had very little in the house, and 
they would be welcome if they would 
be satisfied. They thereupon swore 
furiously, saying they did not believe 
it, and commenced searching, rummag- 
ing drawers, opening closets, and even 
lifting up the hearthstones, which they 
have discovered is a favorite hiding- 
place. They found nothing of value. 
Incensed highly, they commenced swear- 



Monday. 



7^- 



153 



lySo American Resolution, 

ing and threatening the women, who 
were excessively terrified ; they ordered 
them to uncord the bedstead, they them- 
selves pulling off the bed-clothes. Afraid 
to disobey, their trembling fingers re- 
fused the task. (Mr. Albertson had 
been put out of the room, so as to play 
upon the fears of the females.) The 
ruffians said they wanted the rope to 
hang him with. They could extort no 
more by threatening. 

They now dragged in the master of 
the house, and proceeded to put the 
rope around his neck and tie his hands 
behind him. 

Then the wife and children fell upon 
their knees, and begged the rufRans to 
spare their father. 

Mr. Albertson calmly told them that 
it was useless to kill him ; tliat would 
not bring money. The wife then offered 



American Revolution. 



1780 



the wretches all her silver spoons, and 
twenty dollars in money besides, which 
they rudely clutched, but demanded 
more, as violently as before. They 
now began to abuse his only son, Wil- 
liam, a boy of about fourteen years, 
thinking, doubtless, that by exciting the 
fears and sympathy of the father, the 
booty would be produced. 

The poor man, sorely tried, told the 
ruffians that money was nothing to him 
in comparison ; if he had it, he would 
give it them. What Httle he did 
possess was let out to his neighbors. 
Whereupon they began to strike at him 
with their sabres, knocking him down, 
and then standing him up, and cutting 
him dreadfully, he begging for life ; his 
wife, having fainted away, was lying on 
the floor. 

This went on until day began to 

155 



1780 



American Revolution, 



dawn, when they left, cursing and threat- 
ening to burn his house over his head. 
The cord was unloosened from the neck 
of Mr. Albertson, and the deep gashes 
dressed. He received severe injury, 
and will bear the scars thereof through 
life, for I am thankful to say his life is 
not despaired of Great indignation 
prevails, and a plan has been devised 
by the people to protect themselves from 
such great evil in future. A company 
of young men is to be associated, to 
ride about on horseback all night; twelve 
go out at once, and are relieved at a 
certain hour by others. They are wtII 
armed, and will give the alarm where 
they discover signs of an intended at- 
tack. Richard Thompson is their leader, 
a bold, intrepid man. 



American Revolution. 



'T^HIS text dwells on my mind to-day : 
" The Lord is king, be the people 
never so impatient. He sitteth between 
the cherubim, be the earth never so un- 
quiet." It has comforted me much — 
the faith that God is over all, blessed for 
ever! 



Tuesday. 



'npHERE was another robbery perpe- 
trated about twenty miles from this 
place, under most singular circumstances, 
last week. There were three men, and 
they appeared to be entirely superior to 
the Runners, or Cow-boys, who infest the 
country, in station, though not in hu- 
manity. They all wore black masks, 
and were armed with cutlasses, as well 
as silver-mounted pistols. It was the 
house of Joseph Willetts, an aged man. 
They very politely told him not to be 
at all alarmed, as they only wanted his 



Thursday. 



1780 


American Revolution. 




money, and would not injure him, or 
any of his family. The old man com- 
plied with their request, but could not 
satisfy their rapacity. He offered them 
now, though most reluctantly, his old 
silver timepiece (a heavy old-fashioned 
watch, which he had worn at his side 
fifty years), and it seemed like parting 
with a friend. 

The creatures now threw off the mask 
of politeness, though not those they co- 
hered their faces with, and uttered the 
most fearful oaths, and threats of death 
and cruelty. It is generally believed 
they were British soldiers. One of them, 
horrible to relate, let fall his cutlass on 
the head of the aged man, aiming doubt- 
less to kill him ; but as he stooped to 
avoid the blow, it struck his cheek, 
making a dreadful wound. He fell; 
his daughter ran to him, and leaning 

158 



American Revolution. 



1780 



over her venerable parent in agony of 
spirit, cried, " Oh God, they have killed 
him I" 

The villains then began to cut up the 
chairs, to destroy the furniture, and break 
the looking-glass. After which they re- 
lieved the wounded man and his out- 
raged family of their presence. 

The whole country round is roused, 
and determined to ferret out the of- 
fenders. 

The end is with Him " who neither 
slumbers, nor sleeps," in whom is "nei- 
ther variableness, nor shadow of turning." 



l^AITH in an overruling Providence 
was nobly exemplified in a case 
which occurred in one of the Jerseys. 
A Friend was pinioned in his own barn. 
He stood with his back to the large door, 
with a drawn sword close to his breast. 



Saturday. 



1780 



American Resolution, 



which an enraged Britisher, with threat 
of instant death, in case of denial or re- 
fusal of compliance with some outra- 
geous demand, held in his hand. Calm 
and still, the aged Friend stood. It 
seemed to exasperate his persecutor be- 
yond all bounds. With a horrible objur- 
gation he flourished his sabre, and bring- 
ing it down within a hair's breadth of 
the noble man's throat, paused: fiery 
wrath gleamed in his eye. It was a 
moment of terror to the bystanders; 
they besought the Friend to give in. 

The stillness was profound. The 
aged man looked in his enemy's eye, 
and spoke : " Thou canst do no more 
than thou art permitted to do." The 
voice struck solemnly on the ear. 

For an instant more the sword was 
uplifted ; then it fell as though the arm 
had been palsied. The violent man was 



American Revolution. 



cowed, awe-struck. He strode out of 
the barn, mounted his horse, and rode 
away furiously. 

npHERE is a rumor of a great battle 
fought at the South, and the Con- 
tinentals victorious. I cannot vouch for 
the truth of it. My first thought and 
prayer is my husband's safety ; the next 
for our country. 

By skilful military manoeuvres, Gene- 
ral Washington has kept Sir Henry 
Clinton in a state of continual alarm and 
uncertainty for some time. It was gene- 
rally understood that New York was the 
point of attack. But the General sud- 
denly broke up the camp at White 
Plains, and crossed the Hudson river. 

J^EPORT of the dreadful deed I re- 
corded (of the masked men) was 



1780 



Thursday. 



Fridav. 



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American Revolution. 



made to the captain of a company quar- 
tered at Jericho. By inquiry, three 
men were found to have been absent 
on the night of the attack. The officer 
professed himself desirous of having 
them severely punished, if they could 
be identified. Whereupon the wounded 
man, Mr. Willetts, being yet too ill, 
his sister, an aged spinster, with others 
of the household, went to head-quarters. 
The men were assembled, and she recog- 
nised two, by their voices, and their 
size, and general appearance, as the of- 
fenders. They were made to confess and 
designate the third, who had deserted. 

Though he whom they^sorely injured, 
humanely, and in a forgiving spirit, 
pleaded for them, and begged that they 
might not be severely dealt with, they 
were punished severely, by what they 
call picketing. 



American Revolution. 



1780 



'T^HE house of Fry Willis, of Jericho, 
was entered by way of the kitchen, 
where a young man and woman were 
sitting over the fire. The robbers fired 
off a gun to obtain a light. They then 
set a guard over each bed, and searched 
for money and valuables. The man- 
servant, "a warrior," attempted to run 
for his sword, but was held back. They 
ransacked cabinets, desks, etc., and took 
money to a considerable amount, the 
serving-man's excepted, which was con- 
cealed under a drawer. 

TBe venerable and respected Thomas 
Willis, then a boy sleeping in his trun- 
dle-bed, narrates these incidents of the 
war of the Revolution, elucidating, in 
the trials and afflictions of his people 
(the Friends), and their patient submis- 
sion, that divine charity which suffereth 
long and is kind. 

163 



1780 



American Revolution, 



John Searing had been observed by 
the enemy carting pork ; counting upon 
his having received the money for it, 
the creatures went to his house and de- 
manded it. On refusing it, his Hfe was 
threatened. He persisted, was seized 
and his head placed upon a block, and 
a man stood over him with an axe, 
bringing it down every moment as if 
to sever his head from his body. His 
wife then placed all the money they 
had, about forty pounds, at their feet, 
and rushed to save her husband by 
placing her arm across his neck. • 

The sight of the money caused them 
to desist their threatenings. 

The same person, Mr. John Searing, 
was equally fearless when commanded 
by an officer to go with his team to the 
harbor to cart liquor. He was in his 
own wagon on the road and driving. 



American Revolution, 



1780 



, He refused the request. A sword 
was brandished over his head, with a 
threat of instant death. 

There was a pause, and a solemn 
upHfting of the heart to God on his 
part. 

The trustful man then said, " If thou 
seest anything in me worthy of death, 
why then take my Kfe." 

John Searing did not feel free, con- 
science free, to perform such a behest. 

Such perfect trust in Divine protec- 
tion disarmed the atrocious wretch. His 
arm fell powerless. He took the good 
man prisoner and carried him to the colo- 
nel, who respected his rehgious scruples. 

His walk home over the fields alone 
was full of the joy and peace of a faith- 
ful ^Deliever. He used through his after- 
life to recur to it as the most dehghtful 
walk he ever took. 



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American Revolution. 



The robbers, on entering the house of 
John Willis, were so exasperated at 
finding no booty, that they tied the 
hands of all the family behind them, as 
well as those of the eminent preacher, 
Joseph Delaplaine, who was their guest 
at the time. 

They dragged the wife of Mr. Willis 
by the hair about the house, and then 
left them, telling them that they had set 
fire to the house, which was true, as 
they saw the flames kindling and curl- 
ing up the wooden jamb beside the fire- 
place. Their hands all tied ! 

A young woman named Phebe Powell, 
by dint of the most powerful efforts, at 
length loosened one of her hands and 
ran to extinguish the flames, which she 
succeeded in doing before releasing the 
rest from their thonefs ! 



American Revolution. 



lySc 



pjEART-SICK, and weary of record- 
ing these deeds of horror, and long- 
ing to divert the thoughts and allay the 
feelings of indignation and unquiet, to 
which they give rise and continually 
keep in exercise, I determined to de- 
vote this morning to the perusal of Ma- 
jor Musgrave's writing, which, though 
it fills my soul with sadness, exasperated 
and harassed as it is in my present state, 
must still be a relief, though a momen- 
tary one. 

I insert it in my diary for your peru- 
sal, trusting that you will participate, 
my dear husband, in the interest I felt 
for my lost friend, and will feel with me 
a lively concern in what so nearly relates 
to him. 



Saturday. 



THE MANUSCRIPT OF MAJOR MUSGRAVE. 

" Inclination and gratitude, my dear 

107 



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American Revolution. 



madam, prompt me to relate to you 
some of the secrets of my life, feeling 
assured, from the interest you have tes- 
tified in me, that it will not be deemed 
burdensome or intrusive. 

" My youth was passed in the vicinity 
of the pretty town of Tiverton, in De- 
vonshire, surrounded by most sweet and 
pleasant influences. 

" The window of the little dormitory 
from which my eye used to wander on 
awakening from my morning slumbers, 
took in a wide and beautiful range; 
distant hills, verdant soft meadows, 
browsing sheep, and lowing herds. 
The little river Ex, like a thread of sil- 
ver, ran through and around them all, 
to join the Lowman, and even passed 
through the main street of the village. 
In midsummer we could jump over it; 
but in the spring time, when it was 

168 



American Revolution, 



1780 



swollen by the rains, we had to go 
around and cross it by the bridge. 

"Our noble mansion stood on an 
eminence, commanding a fine view of 
the surrounding park, and the upland 
and meadows beyond. 

"The inmates consisted of my wi 
dowed mother, one brother, myself, and 
an orphan cousin. 

"Howard and I were very unlike; 
he a boy of noble impulses, but vola- 
tile, unsteady, impulsive. Of a contem- 
plative turn myself, I was studious, and 
though deep, strong, and ardent in feel- 
ing, yet of a calm, auiet demeanor. 
While Howard made himself heard 
wherever he was, engaging in field 
sports, violent exercises, running, wrest- 
ling, and leaping, I stayed at .home in 
the large library chair, buried in some ex- 
citing wild romance, legend, or tradition. 
8 m 



lySo 



Avierican Revolution. 



" In my earliest years my imagina- 
tion revelled in taks of enchantment 
and fairy-land ; when older, it wondered, 
delighted, and fed on the lore of chi- 
valry ; built feudal castles in the air and 
stormed them; battled down portcullis, 
crossed the moat, stood first in the court, 
a bold knight and true, encased in ar- 
mor, fighting his way through deadly 
foes, armed to the teeth, eager to plant 
the standard of his chief on the castle 
summit, or to rescue from oppression and 
confinement the faire ladye of his love. 

" This fuel to an already heated ima- 
gination, poisonous food to a mind so 
constituted (a temperament highly ex- 
citable), was deadening to all the prac- 
tical uses of life. 

" My dear mother did not undertake 
to direct our pursuits or watch our men- 
tal habits ; so that we were out of harm. 



American Revolution. 



1780 



she left us to pursue the even tenor of 
our way in peace. 

" So I grew up a visionary; averse to 
society, to active life, yet with a pure 
heart, and a high moral sense. 

"Howard had a roving disposition, 
and longed to see the world, which I 
only knew, or cared to know, through 
books. He entered the Royal Navy, 
that his wandering propensities might 
have 'ample scope and verge enough.' 
He was two years my senior. 

"After what has been said, you will 
readily believe that if love should take 
possession of my heart, it would prove 
an absorbing, consuming passion. So 
hath it proved. 

" In my sixteenth year Grace Arden 
went to school at a distance from home. 
When she was gone I first knew that I 
loved her, and loved her not as a sister 



lySo 



American Revolution. 



as I thought I did. I missed her every 
moment, and longed for her return. In 
one year she came ; not only in my eyes, 
which were those of a lover, but in the 
eyes of everybody, transcendently beau- 
tiful, lovely, and engaging beyond de- 
scription. 

"I might dwell in rapture on those 
graces, and glowingly paint from the 
heart on which they are indelibly en- 
graven, the impression of their ineffable 
loveliness; but it is breaking at the 
thought that it is not for me that she is 
so fair; that all her wealth of charms 
which I gazed and • doated on, dreamed 
about, counted my own, and idolized as 
a miser does his gold, was snatched from 
my grasp ; and that the fruit so fair to 
the eye, proved — can I say it^ — but 
ashes, and bitterness within. 

" But I could never impute a fault to 



American Revolution, 



1780 



Grace, then, and it almost kills me to 
write it now ! 

"I told my love to her; she listened 
with maidenly grace, seemed moved, 
excited, and said it was returned. In 
short, Grace accepted my suit. I was 
happy — oh, how happy ! — in the convic- 
tion ! 

" We rode through groves and sha- 
dowy lanes ; by moonlight paced the 
terrace, breathing vows of love ; strolled 
by the rivulet, and sat down by its side, 
mingling our voices with its ripple, sing- 
ing, musing, whispering ever of one and 
the same theme — love I With Grace 
it was a sentiment, with me a passion; 
with her a pastime, with me the destiny of 
my life ; with her evanescent, changeful 
as the April clouds, with me enrooted 
and entwined among the very heart- 
strings ! 

173 



178o 



American Revolution. 



"Now, when I retrace these scenes, 
it seemeth strange, and I wonder that I 
clothed her mind in so many sweet per- 
fections. But then I know that I made 
her the embodiment of the fair vision of 
a fervid imagination ; the ideal charmer, 
complete in every feminine grace; in- 
vesting her with all that fancy pictured 
fair, and wise, and good in woman I 
Methinks I hear you sigh. So do /, 
now the dream is over. Had any one 
then whispered the shadow of a suspi- 
cion of the constancy of my Grace, I 
should have regarded it as the vain bab- 
bling of a fool. 

"The house was thrown into un- 
wonted confusion by the news that 
Howard was returned from the Medi- 
terranean, in the ship of war Vulcan; 
and when he came dashing in one day in 
the Royal Navy uniform, his brown curls 



Ajtierican Revolution, 



1780 



falling about his handsome embrowned 
face, as he removed his cap, kissed Grace, 
and the blood mantled her face, I felt 
a slight twinge; but it quickly passed, 
for I was secure of my possession — her 
undivided heart. 

" I said nothing of our engagement, 
to Howard, nor did Grace, thinking it 
prudent not to publish it until my path 
and business in life was marked out. 

" Howard remained on shore six 
weeks, and we crowded into this short 
space of time much enjoyment. We 
one day took a more than ordinary dis- 
tant ride on horseback; Grace dearly 
loved the exercise, and Howard was an 
accomplished horseman. I endured it 
for her sake, for otherwise I had no plea- 
sure in it. 

" The day was fine, and we rode far 
among the Devonshire hills. Howard 



1780 



American Revolution. 



led the way up their steep sides, often 
where neither road nor path could be 
traced, chatting and laughing merrily 
all the time, for his spirits were inex- 
haustible. 

. " The sun was near setting when 
Grace switched up her little grey pal- 
frey and left us behind ; in a moment 
she was out of sight, and in another we 
, heard a scream. Howard put the spurs 
into his horse and dashed on. For one 
instant I was stunned in alarm, but I 
followed with the swiftness of light. 
He was in time to save her ! 

" She had mounted to the summit of 
the hill so rapidly, that she found it im- 
possible to arrest her progress on the 
brink of the precipice or declivity on the 
other side, and it could not be seen un- 
til it was too late to avert the danger. 
" The horse fell and rolled over and 



17(5 



American Revolution, 



1780 



over, Grace still fast, unable to extricate 
herself. At this point Howard reached 
the spot, leaped from his horse, ran 
down the steep place, caught the pal- 
frey by the rein, and when I came up, 
was holding Grace in his arms, insensi- 
ble and pale as marble. 

" I thanked Heaven in a mental eja- 
culation for her preservation ; but wished 
— how deeply I — that / might have been 
her deliverer. When Grace at length 
opened her eyes, and lifted them till 
they rested on Howard's face ; when she 
murmured his name, looked her thanks, 
and seemed so content in her position, 
I felt another twinge, and wished him 
on the blue Mediterranean, if not at the 
bottom of it. 

" For a few days after this accident 
I felt a little nervous, and the usual 

finale of such a catastrophe — the lave of 

8* 



i78o 



American Revolution. 



the lady — haunted my thoughts conti- 
nually. 

"But I saw nothing to excite the 
least suspicion. Grace was as confiding 
and loving as before, and I never loved 
her half so well. 

" In a few days after I went to Lon- 
don for a week (for which I have ac- 
cused, nay, hated myself since). My 
mother wished me to go on some busi- 
ness transaction for the family. 

" I cannot say that the thought of 
Grace and Howard's being constantly 
thrown together did not cross my mind 
rather unpleasantly; but it was dismissed, 
I remember, as an unworthy one, and 
implicit faith in the truth and fidelity of 
my love was triumphant. 

" The day after my return Howard 
sailed for the West Indies. 

" I thought Grace was distracted and 



178 



Ainerkan Revolution. 



1780 



sad; rather more so than parting with 
one for whom she had only a cousinly 
attachment might warrant. But in a 
little while she cheered up, and appeared 
almost unchanged. 

"Grace and I were inseparable, and 
she acted well her part. Oh, hateful 
dissimulation ! 

" I was sleeping on the brink of ruin ; 
basking in the sunlight on the bosom of 
the earth which was to engulf me ; lis- 
tening only to the voice of the charmer, 
but deaf to the tone of warning ! 

"Yet the beautiful mask must fall, 
soon or late ; I mi/st be awakened from 
the fascinating dream. 

"The truth one day was revealed. 
Letters came from Howard; one for 
my mother, and one for me, and an- 
other for Grace. 

" Ours were read aloud, and handed 

179 



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American Revolution. 



about ; slie went away to open hers. I 
rallied her on her return to the drawing- 
room about keeping her letter so secret, 
and said it was but a fair return of favor 
to share it with us. 

" In looking at her, I thought she had 
been weeping ; there were evident traces 
of tears on her face. 

"Grace saw my surprise, and said 
something soothing and evasive. My 
excited suspicions were again lulled. 
Oh, fond, infatuated fool I 

" I would fain linger, and shrink from 
the dreadful final hour. My dear, dear 
friend, I know your warm heart feels 
for me, and its sympathy is grateful, 
although it fails to assuage my sorrow. 

" Though Grace maintained the same 
demeanor towards me, I began to feel a 
change. Still the reality never dawned 
on my mind. Could 1 distrust a being 



American Revolution. 



1780 



whom I loved as my own soul ? Loved 
idolatrously, and therefore sinfully, you 
will say, and as I too have since learned 
to see it. But it was' as uncontrollable 
as phrensy ; as vain then the attempt to 
moderate or temper it, as to allay the 
storm-wind with a breath, or to lull the 
tempestuous sea. 

" I said that I felt a change. She had 
a sort of patient, enduring manner when 
with me ; a want of responsive warmth 
of feeling; languor, if not indifference, 
was plainly discernible. To sum all, I 
experienced no more that indescribable 
blissfulness, that repose, that joy, that 
perfect happiness in her presence, which 
reciprocal love once gave. The casket 
was there, but the precious, priceless 
gem was lost ! 

" How long this state of deception 
on one part, and delusion on the other, 

LSI 



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American Revolution. 



might have lasted, I know not. I was 
again called to London. Excuse me, 
dear madam, from dwelling on distaste- 
ful, painful details ; you will pardon me 
if I hasten my relation towards its pain- 
ful close, and will believe that every 
incident connected with this journey is 
hateful to me, though stamped as with 
red-hot iron upon my seared brain. 
This is strong language ; you will say 
it is the language of passion. True, my 
dearest lady; but can I speak calmly, 
though on the bed of death, of the re- 
fined cruelty of suffering, the heart- 
breaking misery which I at that time 
endured ? 

" Of the bitterness of such a retro- 
spection, the exquisite pain of such a 
memory (the fine edge of which is never 
blunted), may neither you nor yours 
ever have the faintest conception. 

1S3 



American Revolution, 



1780 



" I received two letters while in Lon- 
don ; one for myself, the other to be 
mailed by me to Howard. Of the cor- 
respondence I was aware, and thought 
it but natural and cousinly in Grace, 
unsuspicious that I was I 

" With a lover's impatience I opened 
my own, as I thought. These are the 
words which greeted my eyes : ' Oh, 
dearest Howard, can I longer bear this 
cruel separation?' I was startled, but 
I instantly thought, *The mistake is 
only in the name. It was quite a natu- 
ral one in writing two letters.' I read 
on : ' It is hard to seem to love another, 
when my heart is wholly yours.' The 
knife was driven into mine, but not yet 
to the core. I thought myself justified 
in reading on, or rather now think so ; 
then I should have laughed at the ques- 
tion. Not open my eyes when led 



lySo 



American Revolution. 



blindfolded to the brink? Shut them 
to the perfidy which betrays, destroys 
me? 

"A dimness came over my sight, a 
sense of faintness, and yet I read on : 
'Charles is as listless and spiritless as 
ever. I do wish he possessed a spark 
of the fire oi your ambition, a particle 
of force of character; he would be at 
all events the more agreeable as a com- 
panion; as to love^ that is in vain for 
him to win, or keep, with his brilliant 
brother for a competitor.' Dizziness 
overpowering compelled me to pause 
ere I broke the seal of the other letter, 
for the truth now flashed upon me : 
' These cruel words were intended for 
Howard^ and the letter was directed 
wrongly to ?ne ! ' 

" At length I opened the true one, or 
rather the false one — false indeed I 



American Revolution. 1780 



" There were indeed no protestations 
of love, but it was taken for granted 
through the whole; and a longing 
anxiety was expressed for my return, 
and many kind things said. 

" In an agony of disappointment I 
tore the paper into shreds, and stamped 
it beneath my heel, and wept — wept 
such tears as manhood sheds — tears 
wrung from the soul ! But in an in- 
stant I resealed the precious document 
to Howard, rang, and instantly dis- 
patched it. 

" I was not ill, no fever seized me ; 
outwardly I was calm. But the sick- 
ness of despair, of grief, of deception, of 
wounded feeling and betrayed affection, 
prostrated body and spirit. They have 
been doing their work on this weary 
frame from that moment, bringing me 
to what you have seen. God knows I 



178o 



American Revolution. 



have striven against it. A strong delu- 
sion, you will perhaps think. Yes, it 
was. I ca?2^ and could reason well ; ques- 
tion myself as to its sin, and smile at 
the folly of regretting one so unworthy. 
But the spectre of my lost love haunted 
me with its sweetness, its charm. It 
stood before me when I attempted to 
mingle with my fellows, when I lay 
upon my sleepless pillow, when I knelt 
in prayer, sat at my untasted meals, or 
entered the house of God. The sense 
of misery, of desertion, viper-like, preyed 
upon my lacerated heart I 

"To go home, it was impossible. 
For ?ne there was no home. Affection 
maketh a home. And yet I felt that 
there was one being to whom I must 
pour out my sorrow, on whose loving 
breast it would soothe me to rest my 
aching head — my Mother ! 

18.3 



American Revolution. 



1780 



" I wrote to her, entreated her to come 
to London quickly; to come alone, on 
business, or any other plea. 

" She came, and was shocked at my 
appearance beyond measure. I told her 
all. She wept with me. The only 
balm that had been poured into the 
wound — her sympathy — was sweet, but 
it could not cure me. Astonished and 
aggrieved, she wished to intercede. 
The idea was intolerable to me. I 
shrank from it with inconceivable dis- 
like, and exacted a promise from her of 
entire silence. 

'* London would not hold me now, 
nor England. I must go somewhere. 
My mother suggested the Continent. 
New scenes and travel, she felt sure, 
would in time restore me to my wonted 
cheerfulness. Oh, little my mother knew 
of the spirit-wound I had received! 



1780 



A?nerican Revolution. 



" The revolt of the American Colo- 
nies had broken out. It was the field 
for me. I knew that I must have ac- 
tion; it was the only escape from the 
thoughts which assailed me, the phan- 
tom of the past which pursued and 
tormented without ceasing. 

" It was a dreadful separation to my 
mother. If a mother ever feels an in- 
tenser love for one child than for an- 
other, mine^did for me; a son after her 
own heart, dependent on her for sympa- 
thy, even when a child, and as a man, 
trustful, confiding, and affectionate. Be- 
sides, was I not now the object of her 
deep commiseration'? The tenderest 
emotions of the heart flowed out to me 
in near and embracing sympathy. 

" I cannot recur to the parting scene. 
Having obtained a commission of rank 
in the army, I embarked for the Colo- 



American Revolution, 



178c 



nies. Here I have been struggling with 
fate three long years. You, my dear 

Mrs. C , have seen the end. Your 

tears fall. You weep that one so young 
should be the victim of unrestrained 
passion. It is sorrowful thus to die. 
But Death, I hail thee as a merciful 
messenger ! I know that I am in the 
hands of One who knoweth and pitieth 
my infirmities. He will have mercy 
on me. All my pangs, my struggles, 
are not hid from him. He heareth the 
voice of my prayer. Blessed be his holy 
name I 

" P.S. I heard two years since of 
the marriage of Howard. I can, and 
do forgive them. . . . Place the minia- 
ture on my heart. Send the other keep- 
sakes to my precious mother. My heart 
aches for her in anticipation of the an- 
guish she will have on my account! 

189 



l78o 



American Revolution, 



God bless her I And you, my dear 
lady, your honored father, and little 
ones. You have all solaced and com- 
forted me." 



Will not tears indeed flow at the pe- 
rusal of this affecting recital ? I regret, 
dear Edward, that you never knew Ma- 
jor Musgrave ; I am sure that your dis- 
criminating judgment would have led 
you to appreciate him. 

We still feel his loss deeply. Even 
Charles, though young and volatile, was 
saddened many days after his departure, 
as were the servants, and every one 
about the house. Old Nero would 
have done anything to serve him. I 
have seen tears coursing down his dark 
face when the Major, on some mild 
sunny morning, assisted out by Shultz, 
would stand in his dressing-gown, lean- 



American Revolution. 



1781 



ing against the garden gate, looking so 
woful and so pale ! No wonder Nero's 
heart was touched; he has as warm a 
one as ever beat beneath a white man's 
breast. 



A N unusual press for men and horses 
to-day. The Sabbath is no more 
regarded than any other day, especially 
as it affords a favorable time for stealing 
hay, cattle, etc., when most of the men 
are attending divine worship. 

Being at private devotions, I was in- 
terrupted by the entrance of Charles, 
shouting vociferously, " The Britisher is 
after Nero I " 

It seems that a light-horseman rode 
up rapidly to Henry Pattison's, inquiring 
for men; all were gone to meeting. 
He looked about and in the house, and 
satisfied himself of the fact, but unfor- 



Sunday 



191 



lySi Ajnerican Revolution. 

tunately espied our Nero standing in the 
stable doorway. 

"By Jove," said he, "I'll have that 
negro." 

Seeing the soldier running towards 
him, poor Nero expected to be taken, 
and was already trying to reconcile him- 
self to his fate, but he suddenly thought, 
" It's not worth while to give in without 
an effort." So, keeping the barn be- 
tween himself and his pursuer, he made 
for a large hay-stack enclosed in the 
middle of the field. 

The red-coat ran his horse violently, 
with the intention, doubtless, of overtak- 
ing him before he reached the stack ; but 
Nero, though rather old and stiff, reached 
it, and jumped over the fence of en- 
closure. 

Almost instantly the Britisher rode up 
with his drawn sword, and swore if he 

1P2 



American Revolution. 



1781 



did not yield himself up, he would run 
him through. 

We now saw the soldier ride furiously 
round the hay-stack, and old Nero get 
on it, although with some difficulty, for 
it was ten or fifteen feet high. Then 
the enemy dismounted and leaped over 
the fence. Nero running backwards 
and forwards on the hay-stack (the top 
of it was flat and about thirty feet long), 
the soldier striking at him unsuccessfully 
with his sword all the time. At length 
we saw that he too got upon the hay- 
stack, and we gave up poor Nero; his^ 
fate seemed inevitable. Not so; he 
most adroitly eluded the light-horseman ; 
jumped off, crossed the fence, and made 
for the woods. 

His pursuer meanwhile mounted his 
horse and was in hot pursuit; indeed, 
close at his heels. Luckily there was a 

9 103 



1781 



American Revolution. 



thick hedge to cross, where our old hero 
had the advantage, for the horse would 
not leap it, and the rider, fuming and 
cursing dreadfully, was obliged to dis- 
mount again ; but the fugitive was now 
far on his way to the woods, where it 
was fruitless to follow. He was in such 
a rage at being thus baffled, that Nero 
would have fared badly had he ever 
fallen into his hands. He remained in 
the woods until after dark, when he 
crept home, and received a warm wel- 
come, especially from the children. 



Tuesday. ^T^HE news of the battle of Yorktown 
confirmed. 
Some months since General Wash- 
ington broke up the camp at White 
Plains and crossed the Hudson river, 
passed quietly through the Jerseys and 
the Province of Pennsylvania, and joined 



104 



American Revolution. 1781 



the young Marquis de la Fayette, who 
commanded a large force at Elk river. 

Here they separated the forces, one 
body sailing for Virginia, the other 
marching for the same point. 

At a place called Chester (I believe 
in the Province of Pennsylvania), Gene- 
ral Washington heard the joyful news 
of the arrival of twenty-four French ships 
of the line, under Count de Grasse. 

They had an engagement with the 
enemy under Admiral Graves, in which 
the French Allies were victors, and left 
masters of the Bay of Chesapeake. 

The whole American force under 
Washington surrounded the king's 
troops at Yorktown; they were block- 
aded by land and by water by an army 
(including French and militia) of 16,000. 

The tremendous firing of artillery 
took the enemy by storm ; they could 



lySi 



American Revolution, 



neither rally nor recover. Their bat- 
teries and defences were completely de- 
molished ; their guns were silenced, and 
no hope of relief or way of escape re- 
mained. 

On the 17th of October, Lord Corn- 
wallis, the British commander of the 
land forces, proposed a cessation of hos- 
tilities, and two days afterwards surren- 
dered ; and articles were signed by which 
the troops, stores, and shipping fell into 
the hands of General Washington. 
Thus was the pride of the royal army 
laid low. 

The thanks and praise be to God I 
We do not dare ascribe it to the strength 
of an arm of flesh, but to the righteous- 
ness of our cause, and to the might and 
power our great commander hath been 
endued with from on high. 

The people are cautious in their ex- 



American Revolution. 



1781 



presslons, being surrounded by the Bri- 
tish; but their joy is irrepressible at the 
good news, though no pubhc demonstra- 
tion can be made. 

Divine service was performed in the 
American brigades, and the Commander- 
in-Chief recommended that all who were 
not on duty should join in worship, 
enjoining "a serious deportment, and 
that sensibility of heart which the recol- 
lection of the surprising and' particular 
interposition of Divine Providence in 
our favor claims." 

^y^HILE joy reignc in a large por- 
tion of the country, we are not 
released from persecution. It has in- 
deed been at times almost beyond 
endurance. "Day unto day uttereth 
speech." Sometimes we are ready to 
exclaim, "Wo is the day that ever my 

- 197 



Wednesday, 



78i 



A7nerican Revolution. 



But the morning 



eyes saw the light I " 

is breaking; our Father in heaven hath 

not utterly hid his face from us. 



Nov. 5^/z. 



IV/f Y husband writes most cheeringly. 
The letter was brought by a friend 
of Major Musgrave, who wished to 
make inquiries respecting him, and take 
charge of his effects. The gentleman 
seemed to have loved him well, and to 
have appreciated the sweetness and deli- 
cacy of his nature. He was much 
moved at my recital of the Major's suf- 
ferings, mental and bodily. We weep, 
but not for him ; he sleepeth well. 

A DAY of public thanksgiving. May 
the incense of prayer and praise 
ascend from the altar of my heart I 

My honored father participates in the 
general joy ; not for the discomfiture of 



American Revolution, 



1782 



the British, but from the hope of peace, 
which his soul loveth, and the heahng 
of discord. 



TT is the first day of the year. The 
httle ones are very merry, and are 
wishing all they meet " a happy coming- 
year." It is for them a pleasant day, but 
we are saddened by its recurrence. The 
sunshine of their hearts is not clouded; 
blessed season of hope and joy I In my 
own, too, it dawns more brightly than 
the last. My loved partner is not here, 
but I have cause to sing the song of 
deliverance, in that his precious life hath 
been preserved amid so many and great 
dangers, which he has never shunned 
but rather courted. Is not the prospect 
brightened for my country since this 
time last year? And for him whom 
the voice of men placed at the helm — 



Jan, \st. 



1782 



American Revolution. 



the great Washington — is there no joy, 
no. gratitude, in the deep places of my 
heart, that God hath raised him up, hath 
preserved, hath prospered him ? 



Aug, \oth. "l^EWS of Lord North's resignation 
of the office of Prime Minister, 
and the forming of a new cabinet, who 
advise His Majesty to discontinue the 
war. Glorious news! Heaven grant 
it may be true. It is certain the war 
has proved but great loss of life and 
treasure, without any real gain to Eng- 
lish valor, or concession on the part of 
the Colonies. 

Faces of men, women, and children, 
brighten with expectation of better times. 
May their hope be not again over- 
clouded ! In war there is not a gleam 
of light to illuminate the darkness. Its 
practices are adverse to the law of con- 



American Revolution, 



782 



science, and lacerating to the feeling 
heart. 

We are ready to shout the pean of 
victory, to exult afar off in the triumph, 
and to cheer on the conflict. Buf could 
we witness the heart-sickening details, 
see the loathsome reality, hear the pierc- 
ing groan, the horrid imprecation, the 
fiendish laugh, we should " rejoice with 
trembling," and mourn the necessity, 
while we return thanks for the victory. 

Then let us pause in silence, and 
while the good angel of our thoughts 
brings to our recollection the frightful 
Gorgon-brood of evils which follow in 
the train of War, pray without ceasing 
that Peace may come and reign in our 
land. 



'TpHE cry of peace resounds I The 

news came to-day. The children 
9* 



201 



April 23. 



1783 



American Revolution, 



ran from school, dismissed by the teacher, 
that all might share in the general joy. 
They are told that some great good has 
happened, they know not what. The 
time will come when they will experi- 
ence and treasure it as the highest favor 
vouchsafed by a kind Providence. God 
be praised I 

The soldiers and Hessians are mov- 
ing off in bands, and the sick are left 
behind to follow after. Many of the 
poor creatures have formed attachments, 
and the ties of kindness and gratitude 
are hard to break. The human heart, 
of whatever clime or station, v:ill respond 
to good treatment; and it is cheering 
and delightful to observe that, in spite 
of the greatest personal inconvenience, 
by patience and good offices, we may 
awaken interest and gratitude in those 
beneath us. 



American Revolution, 



/^o 



Many of them begged to be permit- 
ted to remain in some menial capacity; 
but the ties of kindred prevailed with 
the greater part. 

203 



Appendix. 



A Sermon 

PREACHED ON THE EVE OF THE BAT- 
TLE OF BRANDYWINE BY THE REV. 
JOAB TROUT, SEPTEMBER loth, 1777. 

" N'^'^ ^°"^ since," writes Mr. Hamil- 
ton Schefmyer, "searching into 
the papers of my grandfather, Major 
John Jacob Schefmyer, who was out in 
the days of the Revohition, I found the 
following discourse, delivered in the 
presence of a large portion of the Ame- 
rican soldiery, General Washington, 
General Wayne, and other officers of 
the army, on the eve of the battle of 
Brandywine." 

207 



uimerkan Revolution. 



" '^Jicy that take the sword shall perish hy 
the sword'' — St. Matthew, chap. 27, v. 52. 

Soldiers and Countrymen : 

We have met this evening, perhaps 
for the last time I We have shared 
the toil of the march, the peril of the 
fight, and the dismay of the retreat 
alike ; we have endured the cold and 
hunger, the contumely of the internal 
foe, and courage of the foreign oppres- 
sor. We have sat, night after night, 
beside the camp fire ; we have heard 
together the roll of the reveille, which 
called us to duty, or the beat of the 
tattoo, which gave the signal for the 
hardy sleep of the soldier, with the earth 
for his bed and the knapsack for his 
pillow. 

And now, soldiers and brethren, we 



American Revolution. 



have met in the peaceful valley on the 
eve of battle, while the sunlight is dying 
away behind yonder heights — the sun- 
light that to-morrow morn will ghmmer 
on scenes of blood I 

We have met amid the whitening 
tents of our encampment; in time of 
terror and of gloom have we gathered 
together. God grant it may not be for 
the last time ! 

It is a solemn moment, brethren. 
Does not the solemn voice of nature 
seem to echo the sympathies of the 
hour ? The flag of our country droops 
heavily from yonder staff; the breeze 
has died away along the green plain of 
Chadd's Ford, the plain that spreads be- 
fore us glittering in the sunlight. The 
heights of the Brandywine arise gloomy 
and grand beyond the waters of yonder 
stream. All nature holds a solemn si- 



209 



American Revolution, 



lence on the eve of the uproar, of the 
bloodshed and strife of to-morrow ! 

" '^hey that take the sword shall perish hy 
the sword," 

And have they not taken the sword "? 

Let the desolated plain, the blood- 
sodden valley, the burned farm-house, 
blackening in the sun, the sacked vil- 
lage, and the ravaged town, answer! 
Let the whitening bones of the butch- 
ered farmer, strewed along the fields of 
his homestead, answer ! Let the starv- 
ing mother, with the babe clinging to 
the withered breast that can afford no 
sustenance, let her answer, with the death- 
rattle mingling with the murmuring 
tones that mark the last struggle of life ! 
Let that dying mother and her babe 
answer ! 

It was but a day past, and our land 
slept in the quiet of peace. War was 

210 



American Revolution, 



not here ; wrong was not here. Fraud, 
and wo, and misery, and want dwelt not 
among us. From the eternal solitude 
of the green woods rose the blue smoke 
of the settler's cabin, and golden fields 
of corn looked forth from amid the 
waste of the wilderness, and the glad 
music of human voices awoke the si- 
lence of the forest. 

Now — God of mercy! — behold the 
change ! Under the shadow of a pre- 
text, under the sanctity of the name of 
God, invoking the Redeemer to their 
aid, do these foreign hirelings slay our 
people ! They throng our towns, they 
darken our plains, and now they encom- 
pass our posts on the lonely plain of 
Chadd's Ford. 

" '^hey that take the sword shall perish ly 
the sword." 

Brethren, think me not unworthy of 

211 



American Revolution. 



belief when I tell you the doom of the 
British is near I Think me not vain, 
when I tell you that beyond the cloud 
that now enshrouds us, I see gathering, 
thick and fast, the darker cloud and the 
blacker storm of divine retribution I 

They may conquer us to-morrow. 
Might and wrong may prevail, and we 
may be driven from this field, but the 
hour of God's own vengeance will 
come ! 

Ay, if in the vast solitudes of eter- 
nal space, if in the heart of the bound- 
less universe, there throbs the being of 
an awful God, quick to avenge and 
sure to punish guilt, then will the man 
George of Brunswick, called King, feel 
in his brain and his heart the vengeance 
of the eternal Jehovah ! A blight will 
be upon his life, a withered brain and 
accursed intellect ; a blight will be upon 

212 



American Revolution, 



his children, and on his people ! Great 
God, how dread the punishment ! 

A crowded populace, peopling the 
dense towns, where the man of money 
thrives while the laborer starves; want 
striding among the people in all its 
forms of terror; a proud and merciless 
nobility adding wrong to wrong, and 
heaping insult upon robbery and fraud ; 
a God-defying priesthood ; royalty cor- 
rupt to the very heart, and aristocracy 
rotten to the core; crime and want 
linked hand in hand and tempting men 
to deeds of wo and death; tliese are a 
part of the doom and retribution that 
will come upon the English throne, and 
the English people I 

Soldiers, I look around upon your 
familiar faces with strange interest. To- 
morrow morning we will all go forth to 
the battle ; for need I tell you that your 

213 



American Revolution, 



unworthy minister will march with you, 
invoking God's aid in the fight ? We 
will march forth to battle ! Need I 
exhort you to fight the good fight; to 
fight for your homesteads, for your wives 
and children ? 

My friends, I might urge you to fight 
by the galling memories of British 
wrong. Walton, I might tell you of 
your father butchered in the silence of 
night on the plains of Trenton; I might 
picture his grey hairs dabbled in blood ; 
I might ring his death-shriek in your 
ears! 

Shelmire, I might tell you of a butch- 
ered mother ; the lonely farm-house, the 
night assault, the roof in flames, the 
shouts of the troopers as they dispatched 
their victims; the cries for mercy, the 
pleadings of innocence for pity. I might 
paint this all again in the vivid colors 



American Revolution, 



of the terrible reality, if I thought your 
courage needed such wild excitement. 

But I know you are strong in the 
might of the Lord. You will march 
forth to battle on the morrow with light 
hearts and determined spirits, though 
the solemn duty, the duty of avenging 
the dead, may rest heavy on your souls. 

And in the hour of battle, when all 
around the darkness is lit by the lurid 
cannon glare, and the piercing musket 
flash, when the wounded strew the 
ground and the dead litter your path, 
then remember, soldiers, that God is 
with you ! The etcinal God fights for 
you ! He rides on the battle-cloud ; he 
sweeps onward with the march, or the 
hurricane charge ! God, the awful and the 
infinite, fights for you, and will triumph ! 

" ^hey that take the sword shall perish ly 
the swordr 

215 



American Rccolution. 



You have taken the sword, but not 
in the spirit of wrong and ravage. You 
have taken the sword for your homes, 
for your wives, for your little ones. 
You have taken the sword for truth, for 
justice and right; and to you the pro- 
mise is, "Be of good cheer, for your 
foes have taken the sword in defiance 
of all that man holds dear, in blasphemy 
of God." They shall perish by the 
sword. 

And, now, brethren and soldiers, I 
bid you all farewell ! 

Many of us may fall in the battle to- 
morrow. God rest the souls of the 
fallen I Many of us may live to tell 
the story of the fight to-morrow, and in 
the memory of all will ever rest and 
linger the quiet scene of this autumnal 
night. 

Solemn twilight advances over the 

216 



American Revclution. 



valley. The woods on the opposite 
heights fling their long shadows over 
the green of the meadow. Around us 
are the tents of the Continental host; 
the suppressed bustle of the camp, the 
hurried tramp of the soldiers to and fro 
among the tents, the stillness and awe 
that marks the eve of battle. 

When we meet again may the sha- 
dows of twilight be flung over a peace- 
ful land. God in heaven grant it I 

Let us pray. 

Oh God of mercy, we pray thy bless- 
ing on the American arms. Make the 
man of our hearts strong in thy wisdom; 
bless, we beseech thee, with renewed 
life and strength, our hope and Thy 
instrument, even George Washington. 
Shower thy counsels down on the Hon- 
orable the Continental Congress. Visit 
the tents of our host; comfort the sol- 

10 217 



American Revolution, 



dier in his wounds and afflictions ; nerve 
him for the fight; prepare him for the 
hour of death. 

And in the hour of defeat, oh, God 
of Hosts, do thou be our stay; and in 
the hour of triumph be thou our guide. 

TeUch us to be merciful. Though 
the memory of gaUing wrongs be at our 
hearts knocking for admittance, that 
they may fill us with the desire of re- 
venge, yet let us, oh. Lord, spare the 
vanquished, though they never spared 
us in the hour of butchery and blood- 
shed ! 

And in the hour of death do thou 
guide us to the abode prepared for the 
blessed ; so shall we return thanks unto 
thee through Christ our Redeemer. 

God prosper the Cause. Amen. 



218 



American Revolution, 






Recolle ctions 



OF 



General Washingto 



N 



'pHE following note was found among 
the papers of the late Lord Erskine : 

"To General Washington: 

"Sir,— I have taken the liberty to 
introduce your august and immortal 
name in a short sentence which is to 
be found in the book I send to you. 

'' I have a large acquaintance among 
the most valuable and exalted class of 
men; but you are the only human being 
for whom I ever felt an awful reverence. 



219 



American Revolution. 



I sincerely pray to God to grant a long 
and serene evening to a life so glori- 
ously devoted to the happiness of the 

world. 

"T. Erskine." 



In the year of our Lord 1790, I stood 
upon the door-step of the counting- 
house, of which I was then but the 
youngest clerk, when the companion 
beside me hurriedly said, "There he 
comes ! There comes Washington ! " 

I looked up Pearl Street, and saw 
approaching, with stately tread and 
open brow, the Father of my country. 
His hat was off, for the day was sultry, 
and he was accompanied by Colonel 
Page and James Madison. 

Never have I forgotten, nor shall I 
to my dying day forget, the serene, the 



220 



American Revolution. 



benign, the god-like expression of the 
countenance of that man of men. His 
lofty mien and commanding figure, set 
off to advantage by an elegant dress, 
consisting of a blue coat, buff small 
clothes, silver knee and shoe buckles, 
and white vest; his powdered locks, 
and powerful, vigorous look (for he 
was then in the prime and strength of 
his manhood), have never faded from 
my mind during the many years which, 
with all their chances and changes, have 
rolled between. 

As Washington passed near the spot 
where I stood, his mild, clear, blue eye 
fell upon me, and it seemed as though 
his very glance was a benediction. 
Though high deeds and noble acts, 
fame, death, a nation's worship and 
tears, have since in the deep places of 
my heart consecrated his name above 



221 



American Revolution, 



every other name of earth, yet even 
then, boy as I was, the glance thrilled 
me through and through ; my eyes fell 
beneath it, and my hand was involun- 
tarily raised to uncover my head as that 
august personage passed by. 

The aspect of the outer man alone 
was calculated to enforce respect, to 
compel awe and reverence. But there 
is that in the sight and presence of a 
being we revere, a being whose name 
we have been taught to lisp in infancy 
with grateful affection, and have had 
held up to us in boyhood as worthy of 
all honor and imitation, which stirs feel- 
ings which lie far down in the depths of 
the soul, and inspires faith and trust in 
God, and in human goodness. Oh! 
heaven-taught, heaven-endowed man ! 
ordained of thy Maker to be thy coun- 
try's deliverer ! 



American Revolution, 



Once again I saw the President. He 
was riding, the carriage being drawn by- 
four beautiful bays. I remember well 
its silver plate and yellow panels (yel- 
low, by the way, has ever since seemed 
to me a proper and aristocratic color for 
a vehicle of this kind). Mrs., or Lady 
Washington, as she was always called, 
sat by his side. She was of a comely 
and pleasant countenance, and appeared 
to be conversing in a lively manner 
with the General. 

"Be not too familiar, lest men see 
thine infirmities, and learn to cavil at 
thy teaching." 

This truth Washington appears to 
have appreciated ; or rather it was in- 
nate in his character. Yet no man had 
fewer infirmities than he, and none 
could have less dread of scrutiny. The 
most conspicuous trait in his character, 



223 



American Revolution. 



and one of the rarest virtues, was mode- 
ration. This was exemplified in every 
act of his life. Temperance shone in all ; 
it was the guide of his conduct, the key 
to his great successes. Ambition, fame, 
military glory, considered in themselves, 
seem never to have had entrance into 
his clear, conscientious mind. With 
him all " the pomp and circumstance of 
glorious war" was never dreamed of 
The right and freedom nerved his arm. 
He drew only the sword of defence. 
Though his courage was undaunted, 
enthusiasm formed no part of his cha- 
racter. " The loud clarion and the spirit- 
stirring drum " never drowned in his ear 
the cry of despair, the shriek of the dy- 
ing. He never for a moment forgot 
that the fall of the meanest soldier on 
the battle-field carried desolation, wailing, 
and often destitution, into an household. 



American Revolution. 



But to return. The gaily prancing 
steeds soon rolled the carriage out of 
sight, and left me standing in the street, 
an enthusiastic boy-dreamer, with won- 
dering gaze and crowding thoughts. 

Once more was he borne along; the 
steeds not now prancing and gay, but 
one, the old war-horse, led before his 
master's body, saddle and stirrup empty, 
and cloth of black covering him I Mourn- 
fully the dumb animal seemed to walk. 
How mutely eloquent it was ! 

The scene is now before me ; the so- 
lemn procession slowly moving, marked 
through all its length with the sad trap- 
ping of wo. The unutterably solemn 
strain of music, the march for the dead, 
rings in my ear. I seem to see again 
the serious, downcast faces of the men 
who followed it. Again I hear the sobs 
and the weeping of the women, and see 

10* 225 



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the wondering and affrighted , look of 
the little children. Each mourned as 
with a personal grief Earth will never 
again behold such a spectacle — a nation 
melted in tears ! 

Why were they shed? What trait 
of our beloved Washington do we most 
gratefully reverence? Is it not his 
transcendent goodness, his unsullied in- 
tegrity, his purest patriotism? Yes, 
we love while we honor his memory. 
While he lived, we reposed trust in 
him, as in an ark of safety, a shield of 
defence. A God-fearing man. He pros- 
pered and blessed his life. Favored of 
Heaven, he enjoyed the confidence of 
men. No, I repeat, never shall I forget 
the words which wrought wonder, con- 
sternation, and fear in my mind — Wash- 
ington is dead! 

For many years I dwelt in the very 

226 



American Revolution. 



house in which the great defender lived. 
I slept in the very room in which 
he slumbered. Sometimes an ancient 
friend of the family would point out 
with pleasure and honorable pride the 
very spots where the General and his 
lady stood on grand reception days; 
how they were attired; what gracious 
words they spake, and how kindly and 
how hospitable they were. 

And then the old man, sighing, said 
to my mother, with the retrospective 
glance of age, " Ah, madam, these were 
palmy days!" 

There was one article in the house 
which had belonged to the Washington 
family, and only one. It was an old 
mirror. It fitted over the mantelpiece 
underneath the wainscotting, and was 
never removed. Well do I remember, 
when a mere child, being told this by 



American Revolution. 



an old servant, and how I gazed upon it 
with veneration, because it had often re- 
flected the face and form of the beloved 
Washington. It was held as a relic of him. 
Many a weary night when I have 
lain sleepless on my bed, the wind 
whistling mournfully without, a lonely 
feeling would creep over me as I looked 
upon the wainscotted walls of The 
Great Room, the old blue tiles of the 
large fire-place, and the deep embrasured 
windows, and felt the stillness so pro- 
found within that I could almost hear 
the beating of my heart. Then the ter- 
rors of a fearful imagination would be 
exorcised, as the words of my mother 
seemed to whisper me again: "When 
vain fears disturb thee, remember the 
good man who once lay where thou 
liest, and be thankful. The dark vision 
will be dispelled." 



American Revolution. 



Then I have thought, "His eyes 
have rested on the objects which I now 
behold." I have fancied the thoughts 
that might have filled his mind as he 
lay on a sometime sleepless pillow- 
thoughts pure, thankful, self-sacrificing 
noble ! ^ 

A vivid picture of the illustrious man 
was before me; his countenance up- 
lifted and lustrous with heavenly peace 
and hope; his hands upraised, and his 
lips moving with words of prayer and 
praise. For I had been told diat he 
was a man of prayer; and in this, I had I 
been taught to believe, lay his strength. | 

And then (easy transition), a yet more 
glorious vision passed before me— a 
beatific vision. T have seen him one 
of the throng of those who walk in 
white beneath the shadow of the Eter- 
nal Throne; his face radiant with joy. 



American Revolution. 



and a crown of light encircling his brow, 
yet wearing the same serene, majestic 
look which he wore on earth. 

Spirit of Washington! wise, mild, 
merciful, temperate, just, we evoke thee ! 
Influence, guide, and rule thy country- 
men! 

230 



American Revolution, 



Recollections 



OF 



General La Fayette 



TN dwelling upon Washington, the 
name of another great man rises 
involuntarily — La Fayette. His disin- 
terestedness, noble heroism, and pure 
integrity, shine with unsullied lustre. 
We experience a hearty reverence and 
affection; are proud that such a man 
espoused our cause, and freely accord 
to him the high honor of one worthy 
to be called the Friend of Washington. 
Kindred in spirit, in aims, in hopes. 



American Revolution. 



Washington tempered the ardor of La 
Fayette, viewing him in the hght of a 
dear son, while La Fayette reverenced 
the wisdom, greatness, and virtue of 
his guide, his example, his more than 
friend. 

Married to a lovely and high-born 
woman in the year 1774, when but a 
little over seventeen years of age, in the 
summer of ^76 La Fayette was sta- 
tioned on military duty at Metz, being 
then an officer in the French army. 
Dining at that time with the Duke of 
Glocester (brother to the King of Eng- 
land) at the house of the commandant 
of that place, the conversation fell on 
American affairs. 

The details were new to the young 
Marquis. He listened with eagerness 
and intense interest. The cause seemed 
to him just and noble, from the repre- 



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sentations of the Duke himself, and be- 
fore he left the table he devoted himself 
heart and hand to it. He determined 
to offer his services to a people who 
were struggling for freedom and inde- 
pendence, And from that hour he could 
think of nothing but this chivalrous en- 
terprise. 

The property of La Fayette being at 
his own disposal (an annual revenue of 
two hundred thousand livres), he was 
enabled to pursue in this respect his 
heroic inclinations. His youthful ima- 
gination was fired with the thirst of 
glory. The dazzling vision of conquer- 
ing and establishing a wide country 
over the sea, to be the habitation, home, 
and dwelling-place of Freedom, so dear 
to his lofty and untrammelled mind, be- 
came real and palpable. Recollections 
of the glorious Fast, its republics and 



American Revolution. 



their ancient splendor, arts, letters, poets, 
orators, and warriors, filled his mind, 
and mingled with the cry of the op- 
pressed sounding in his ear, above the 
booming ocean which rolled between, 
fixing his firm resolve. 

Born and cradled amid the most aris- 
tocratic influences, brought up in the 
lap of luxury, and united to the object 
of his affections, rank, wealth, friends, 
power, whose blandishments are so blind- 
ing to the mental and moral vision, and 
so inimical to high purposes and noble 
deeds, were unheeded by La Fayette. 
That cry for succor was never stilled. 
He would not turn a deaf ear to it. 
The promptings of a generous heart 
were obeyed. The sacrifice was made ; 
to him no sacrifice, yet in truth a tremen- 
dous one, one which we feel with a thrill 
of gratitude, and shall to all generations. 



American Revolution, 



By leaving France, La Fayette in- 
curred the displeasure of his king and 
of the nobles and his own relations. To 
his wife he thus writes, when fairly off 
at sea : 

"How many fears and anxieties en- 
hance the keen anguish I feel at being 
separated from all that I love most 
fondly in the world! How have you* 
borne my departure ? Have you loved 
me less? Have you pardoned me? 
Your sorrow, that of my friends, and 
my child, all rushed upon my thoughts, 
and my heart was torn by a thousand 
painful feelings. I could not at that 
instant find any excuse for my own 
conduct. 

" If you could know all that I have 
suffered, and the melancholy days that 
I have passed, whilst flying from all 
that I love best in the world ! Must I 



American Revolution. 



join to this affliction the grief of hear- 
ing that you do not pardon me? I 
should feel in truth too miserable. But 
I need not fear this, need I, my dearest 
love?" 

In reading such letters we fully esti- 
mate the costliness of the sacrifice. We 
may perhaps feel regret in reviewing 
some scenes in the life of La Fayette. 
We regret that the life of Louis and 
his beautiful queen, placed in his hands, 
were not, by decision, firmness, and fore- 
thought, saved. Speaking of them, he 
says: "The king and queen, whose 
lamentable fate only allows me to pride 
myself on some service I have rendered 
them." Again : " If I have erred in the 
path I am pursuing, forgive the illusions 
of my head in favor of the good inten- 
tions and rectitude of my heart." 

Washington's love for La Fayette 



American Revolution, 



forms one of the softest and most beau- 
tiful traits of his august character. " He 
came," says the Marquis, in speaking of 
a severe illness he suffered, " every day 
to inquire after his friend, but fearing to 
agitate him, only conversed with the 
physician, and returned home with tear- 
ful eyes, and a heart oppressed with 
grief." 

When La Fayette was wounded at 
Brandywine, Washington said to the 
surgeon, "Take care of him as if he 
were my son, for I love him the same ; " 
and he expressed for him during this 
illness the most tender and paternal 
anxiety. 

"How is it possible," exclaims La 
Fayette, whose love and respect knew 
no bounds, "that he should not have 
been warmly cherished by his disciple — 
he who, uniting all that is good to all 

237 



American Revolution. 



that is great, is even more sublime from 
his virtues than from his talents ? Had 
he been a common soldier he would 
have been the bravest in the ranks ; had 
he been an obscure citizen, all his neigh- 
bors would have respected him. With 
a heart and mind equally correctly 
formed, he judged both of himself and 
circumstances with strict impartiality." 

"Nature," he adds, "while creating 
him expressly for that Revolution, con- 
ferred an honor upon herself And to 
show her work to the greatest possible 
advantage, so constituted it, that each 
distinct quality would have failed in 
producing the end required, had it not 
been sustained by all the others." 

The most delightful recollections of 
my earliest childhood are those of the 
visit of General de La Fayette to Ame- 
rica. The splendid pageant of his en- 



American Revolution, 



trance into this city is indelibly im- 
printed on my memory; as is also the 
being held on men's shoulders in the 
Park, after viewing, in all its pompous 
length, the procession, to behold the 
benevolent and beaming countenance 
of one whom I had been taught to re- 
vere. 

Afterwards too, the honor that I felt 
in being taken by the hand by this 
great and brave man, my heart beating 
proudly the while beneath the ribbon 
badge which I wore, stamped with his 
features, and with the words, ''''Welcome 
to the Nation's Guest." 

Oh, happy day for me ! thrice happy 
and glorious to him ! 

The animated face, plain dress, few 
courteous words, and gracious, kind 
looks of La Fayette, are well remem- 
bered. 



American Revolution. 



Kings and emperors have visited the 
kingdoms of their compeers, when more 
elaborate pageantry, more royal pomp 
has been displayed. 

From war, victors have come laden 
with spoils, while the populace, with 
frantic zeal, have dragged their cnariots 
through the crowd of benighted wor- 
shippers; but such an universal, spon- 
taneous outburst of national gratitude — 
the impulse of millions as of one undi- 
vided heart and mind — cherished, trans- 
mitted, and grown with the nation's 
growth, during the lapse of near fifty 
years, was never before exhibited to the 
world — was never recorded on history's 
page I 

240 



American Revolution, 



Anecdotes of 



AND 



Tributes to Washington. 



JN 1754 he was stationed at Alexan- 
dria with his regiment, the only one 
in the colony, of which he was the colo- 
nel. There happened at that time to be 
an election in Alexandria for members of 
the Assembly, and the ballot ran high 
between Colonel George Fairfax and 
Mr. William Elgey. 

Washington was on the side of Fair- 
fax, and a Mr. William Payne headed 
the friends of Elgey. 



11 241 



Ajnerican Revolution, 



In the course of the contest, Wash- 
ington grew very warm (for his passions 
naturally were very powerful, though a 
wise regard to duty, Le. honor and hap- 
piness, soon reduced them to proper 
command), and unluckily said some- 
thing to Mr. Payne, who, though but a 
cub in size, was a lion in heart, elevated 
his shillelah, and, at a blow, extended 
our hero on the ground. 

News was soon carried to the regi- 
ment that their colonel was murdered 
by the mob ! 

On the passions of the soldiers, who 
doated upon their commander, such a re- 
port fell at once like a flash of lightning 
on a magazine of gunpowder. 

In a moment the whole regiment was 
under arms and in rapid motion to- 
wards the town, buming for vengeance. 

During this time Washington had 



American Revolution, 



been liberally plied with cold water, 
acids, and volatiles; and, happily for 
Mr. Payne and his party, was so far 
recovered as to go out and meet his 
enraged soldiers, who crowded round 
him with faces of honest joy to see him 
alive again. 

After thanking them for such an evi- 
dence of their attachment to him, he 
assured them that he was not hurt in 
the least, and begged them, by their 
love of him and of their duty, to return 
peaceably to their barracks. 

As for himself, he went to his room, 
generously chastising his passion, which 
had just struck but a spark that had 
like to have thrown the whole town in 
a flame ; and feeling himself the aggres- 
sor of Mr. Payne, he resolved to make 
him the honorable reparation of asking 
his pardon. 

243 



American Revolution. 



No sooner had he made this heroic 
resolution, than recovering that deHcious 
gaiety which ever accompanies good 
purposes in a virtuous mind, he went 
to a ball that night, and behaved as 
pleasantly as though nothing had hap- 
pened. 

Early the next morning he wrote a 
polite note of invitation to Mr. Payne 
to meet him at the inn. 

Payne took it for a challenge, and 
repaired to the inn in full expectation 
of smelling gunpowder. But what was 
his surprise, on entering the chamber, 
to see, in lieu of a brace of pistols, a 
decanter of wine and a pair of glasses 
on the table. 

Washington rose to meet him, and 
offering his hand, with a smile began : 

" Mr. Payne, to err sometimes is na- 
ture; to rectify error is always glory. 



Amencan Revolution. 



I believe I was wrong in the affair of 
yesterday. You have had, I think, 
some satisfaction, and if you deem that 
sufficient, there is my hand ; let us be 
friends." 

An act of such sublime virtue, pro- 
duced its proper effect upon the mind 
of Mr. Payne, who, from that moment, 
became the most enthusiastic admirer 
and friend of Washington ; and for his 
sake, ready at any time to charge up to 
a battery of two-and-forty pounders. 

" Would our youth," says the narra- 
tor, " but be persuaded to act in a style 
so correct and heroical, our papers would 
no longer shock us with accounts of 
elegant young men murdering each 
other on false principles of honor ; by 
one desperate deed depriving them- 
selves of all present pleasure, and of all 
future hope." 



American Revolution, 



" There was a man," says an eloquent 
writer, "who stood on the loftiest seat 
of power and did not fall. Hallowed 
for all time be the anniversary of his 
birth ! Our Washington was one of the 
few great men in the world, in whom 
the better sentiments were wrought into 
established and governing principles." 

This was emphatically his greatness. 
His whole character was based upon 
steadfast and inflexible principles. I 
see this trait in all his writings. I see 
everywhere, how all that there was of 
feeling and enthusiasm in his mind was 
tamed down to the sedateness and 
strength of principle. I see in his 
whole life the same concentration of 
everything to the one point of duty. 

Duty, principle, was the pole-star that 
guided him through the troubled and 
trying scenes of his life. 

246 



American Revolution. 



It is this which the sculptor has set 
forth when he represented the victorious 
chief with one hand surrendering to the 
country the sheathed sword, the emblem 
at once of command and of power, and 
with the other pointing to heaven, in 
token of humble and solemn gratitude, 
and allegiance to the Power Supreme. 

And this was, in the sphere in which 
he moved, a greatness of which many 
who are called great were utterly in- 
capable. It was a greatness which no 
man in similar circumstances ever ex- 
hibited. A Csesar grasping at the scep- 
tre of empire, an Alexander sweeping 
the skirts of Asia with his hosts, a Na- 
poleon or a Cromwell, vaulting, when 
occasion served, to the seat of arbitrary 
power — what were those examples of 
miscalled greatness to the sublime and 
Christian heroism of our Washington ? 



American Revolution. 



This demands a resolution, an energy, 
a nobleness, to be seen nowhere else. 
To abjure all ease, all softness, all in- 
dulgence, all ambition, as the solemn 
behest of charity ; to bring to an end 
this eternal conflict — the contradiction 
between our ideal and our practice — to 
pass through the great regeneration from 
passive sentiment to resolved and active 
principle. This, in every walk, indi- 
vidual, social, poHtical, in every career 
of communities or nations, is the only 
path to unfading glory on earth, and 
eternal bliss in heaven. 



American Resolution, 



Remarks on the Death 



General La Fayette 



T^HE majority of men estimate the 
superiority of their fellows solely 
by the indications of power — of power 
under whatever shape it may present 
itself; no matter how unequal may be 
its development, or how destructive its 
display. What mind does not shrink 
before the blazing intellect of Byron — 
the iron ambition of Napoleon ? 

But how few can appreciate the moral 
grandeur, the wonderful assemblage, the 

249 



American Revolution. 



just balancing and developing of good 
and great qualities, in the character of 
Washington? And yet that character 
was such a phenomenon as a singular de- 
parture from the wonted exhibitions of 
human nature, under its most glorious 
aspects, as ever had a place upon the 
annals of mankind. 

And history will regard La Fayette 
as one of those immortal benefactors of 
our race who have stretched their arms 
beyond one generation to embrace the 
children of centuries in advance — a liv- 
ing model of goodness in every age I 
One of the few nobly great men who 
live on the pages of the world's history, 
to teach us, when despairing of the on- 
ward destiny of our race, that there have 
been some who have dared to be honest 
under all circumstances, and who have 
retained their benignity and love of 

250 



American Revolution. 




mankind, when philanthropy became a 




reproach and a by-word ! 




The honesty that rose to the dignity 




of heroism, and the moderation which 




in classic story would be dignified as 




the loftiest philosophy, will leave un- 




questioned the greatness of La Fayette. 




THE END. 




251 





